Sarah vs the FBI
by TwotoTenth
Summary: Sarah Walker is a murder suspect, and is on the run. Special Agent Veronica Mars of the FBI is in pursuit. Can Sarah clear her name? And is there more to this killing than meets the eye? Chuck-VM crossover, sequel to Chuck vs. Dunder Mifflin.
1. Situation

Chapter 1: Situation

**September 24, 2010; 2215 local time**

Sarah groaned. Of all the times it could choose, the phone had to bother her on Chuck's birthday. She rolled over toward the nightstand, stole a sip from the wineglass she'd left there, and answered.

"Hello?" Sarah already knew who was on the other end of the call. Only one person had this number.

"DC? Are you sure that's a good … oh. That changes things. Yeah, I'll take care of it. Thanks, Mr. B."

Sarah stood from the bed with a sigh and selected clothes that were more travel appropriate than what she'd been wearing when the call came in. Beckman had done it again. Sarah promised herself that this would be the last time the NSA director interfered in her life.

* * *

FBI Special Agent Veronica Mars was not in a good mood. The Assistant Director in Charge of the Los Angeles Field Office had called her at 3:00 in the morning and told her to get to the airport for the 6:12 flight to Washington. No, he could not tell her why. The reason he could not tell her was the fact that he didn't know himself. The Director had asked for the best people from each major office, and in the ADC's esteemed opinion, that meant Agent Mars.

Veronica had been flattered, but she gladly would have settled for second-best if it meant more sleep. On the other hand, maybe this case would be a break from the paper-chasing she was so often stuck with. She was unquestionably very good at following the money, but her favorite part of investigation had always been the personal interaction – she could take on any role that could conceivably be filled by a 5-foot-2 blonde woman, and her personality could switch from charming to threatening at the drop of a hat. Veronica was happy in her job, but she often wished for a case that would involve a conversation more complicated than holding out a badge and shouting "FBI!"

The plane touched down at Baltimore-Washington International, and Veronica was immediately whisked off to a government car. She paid very little attention to the route it was taking, at least until it left highway before entering DC.

"Not going to the Hoover Building?" she inquired.

"Nope. Fort Meade," replied the driver.

That revelation had the potential to set off a lengthy round of questions, but Veronica realized that the driver probably didn't know the answers to any of them. So she stored them up mentally while waiting through the relatively brief drive. After the car's occupants were processed by the fort's security force, the driver dropped her off in front of a large, nondescript building and instructed her to find the conference room. Veronica found it nearly full and took one of the last available chairs. She leaned toward the agent seated next to her. "Any idea why we're here?"

"Not a clue," he replied. "They're not telling us anything until you West Coast types all show up."

After another twenty minutes, two more agents stepped into the room. The door was closed behind them as they took their seats. Moments later, FBI Director Stephen Sax stepped behind the podium at the front of the room.

"Good afternoon, Agents. This room contains the FBI's finest investigators, pulled from all over the country. We've called you all here because this case is both too difficult and too important to be handled by a single field office." He pulled up a hastily-prepared presentation and clicked to bring up the first page. "There was a murder here at Fort Meade last night. The victim was shot twice in the head, in a secure office, shortly after midnight. The video surveillance on the office revealed nothing; it was looped during the critical moments. There is not a shred of DNA evidence at the scene, and nobody on the base reports seeing anything. At first glance, it appears that someone has covertly entered one of the most heavily-guarded military facilities in the country and pulled off a perfect crime."

Veronica was impressed by the speed with which the DC field office had covered that much ground in the investigation, and wondered who exactly would require the exercise of that much Bureau muscle. She was not disappointed.

"The victim of this assassination was the head of the NSA, General Diane Beckman."

* * *

A/N: So, this is my first story... I'd appreciate any reviews or other feedback. Also, if anyone who knows both series is interested in serving as a beta, let me know!


	2. Interrogation

A/N: So, I had this great idea one time for how I could own Chuck. I went to NBC's corporate headquarters, pounded on the door, and yelled, "Give me liberty or give me Chuck!"

They gave me liberty. Looking back on it now, I probably should have seen it coming.

(I don't own Veronica Mars either, in case that wasn't clear.)

* * *

Chapter 2: Interrogation

"Colonel, I think someone may have given you the wrong script. In this scene, I ask you some questions, you answer them, and I don't mark you down as a suspect in the murder of a very important government official. Are we clear?"

Veronica's role in the case brought her to an interrogation room. The NSA's top brass had been assessed based on their respective levels of access and ability, and the ones judged to have the best chance of accomplishing the murder had each been assigned to an out-of-town FBI agent. Veronica's man was Colonel John Casey.

"Are you trying to scare me, Agent Mars?"

He was not being as cooperative as she'd hoped.

"I mean, I've stared down death more times than you can count, and have been doing it probably since before you were born. Do you really think a few harsh words from a pixie like yourself are going to have me cringing in fear and admitting guilt?"

"Colonel Casey, there's no need for this to be a hostile encounter in any way. I have been given full clearance to know absolutely anything for the purposes of this investigation, so your reticence is not only irritating, it is pointless. Aren't we on the same side here? Or would you rather see your boss's murderer get away with it?"

"That depends," Casey replied. It wasn't the answer Veronica had expected.

"On what?"

"On who did it."

"Let me make sure I'm hearing this right. Are you saying you think the General's murder may have been justified?"

Casey shrugged. "I had a great deal of respect for General Beckman. But I did not agree with all of her decisions."

"Care to give an example of one you took issue with?"

"Not especially."

"You know I'll figure it out with or without your help, right? We've got full access to every single file in the General's office, by order of the President himself. If there's a motive to be found, we'll find it. The only difference is how difficult your life will be in the interim," Veronica said combatively. "But let's move on. I've got your NSA service record here. It appears that your career was on a very promising path just one year ago – I'd say you were well on your way to running the NSA's covert operations branch. But you seem to have hit a roadblock at the end of your Scranton assignment, and you've been stuck with fairly menial stuff ever since."

The burly man merely grunted in response.

"Tell me about Los Angeles. It was your first long-term assignment in years. What were you doing there?"

He offered a thin smile. "That's classified."

"We've been over this. I've been given the highest possible clearances. Now, tell me about Los Angeles."

"Here's the thing, Agent Mars. There was no paperwork on that assignment - all reports were made orally. It was beyond top secret. The full details of my work in LA were known to…" Casey paused and counted quickly on his fingers. "Six people, by my count. Of those six, three are now dead – General Beckman, former CIA Director Graham, and CIA agent Bryce Larkin. One of them is a British citizen, over whom you have no investigative authority. And one of them is me. So really, the details of my work in Los Angeles are exactly as restricted as I want them to be. And I say they're classified beyond your pay grade."

"I only count five people on that list, Colonel. I'll hazard a guess that the sixth is your former partner, Sarah Walker?"

Casey nodded, a devious grin crossing his face. "That's right. And you've got a better chance of having Beckman wake up and sing the information you want to the tune of 'Camptown Races' than you do of getting it out of Walker."

* * *

Veronica learned nothing further from the cantankerous Colonel. She was left with a list of his known contacts in the intelligence community. Her instincts told her that the LA mission was the key to the case (or at least Casey's part in it), so she decided to focus on people who'd interacted with him during that assignment and learn everything she could about his team - especially Walker, who seemed to have good potential as a suspect.

"Casey?" DEA agent Carina Miller smiled. "Great agent. Fun to have around, in his own way. Unfortunate taste in boxers."

Veronica grinned slightly, wishing idly that she had time to allow the other woman to finish that story. "You've worked with Colonel Casey twice in recent years, correct?"

"Yeah. He was second-in-command on the team I led trying to track down Sarah Walker after she went rogue. God, that was a nightmare – that woman could plant a false lead like nobody's business. Casey came closer than anyone to catching her, and he missed by a full two days. She was gone before he even found the trail."

"How about the other time? That was while he was in LA, right?"

"Yup. Casey, Sarah, and Chuck all helped me grab a diamond from a terrorist financier."

Veronica blinked. Casey hadn't mentioned a Chuck, and hadn't left a spot for him on the list of people who knew the operation – unless he was British. "Chuck? What can you tell me about him?"

"Did Casey not mention him? They were really secretive about that guy – I never did figure out exactly what his role on their team was. He was tall, nerdy, kinda cute, pretty awkward when anything serious was going down, but got the job done well enough. Oh, and he turned me down three times. I always wanted another crack at him," Carina said contemplatively.

Veronica chuckled at that – she didn't imagine the DEA agent was shot down often. "What other information do you have on him? Anything at all – family, employment, a way to track him down?"

"He lived with his sister. Worked at a Buy More as part of his cover – Nerd Herder, so maybe he was a tech guy or something. Knew security systems well enough. He had this short best friend… Martin, I think. That's all I can remember. No clue what he's up to now – he wasn't part of my chase team after Walker split."

"Thanks for your help." Veronica walked toward the door of Carina's office, then paused. "Hey, I don't think I caught Chuck's last name."

Carina thought for a moment. "You know, I don't think they ever told me what it was. Man, they really didn't talk about that guy."

Veronica nodded her thanks and stepped from the office with a new direction for her investigation. Who was Chuck, and what was the big secret about him?

* * *

"Yes, I remember Chuck," said Mei Ling, former agent of the People's Republic of China.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Not very much. He was not much of a spy, but he seemed to be a good man. He convinced his handlers to help save my brother."

"Handlers?"

"Yes. The blonde woman and the angry man. Both very good agents. The way they protected Chuck, it was clear that they were handlers, not partners."

"Anything else?"

"Chuck mentioned a sister – her name started with an E, I think. I am sorry, that is all I remember."

"That's quite all right. I'll take anything I can get."

* * *

"Ahh yes, I remember young Agent Carmichael. Gave him a brief course in seduction." Semi-retired CIA agent Rowan Montgomery looked Veronica up and down appreciatively. "I'd be happy to demonstrate for you."

She shuddered slightly at the offer, but that didn't keep her from noticing his mention of a last name. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Montomery. What can you tell me about him?"

"Don't bother with the last name – it's a false one. I could swear I knew his real name at some point, but my memory isn't what it once was," he confessed as he tipped back his second martini of the meeting, giving Veronica an indication of the cause of his forgetfulness. "What can I tell you about him? Rather hopeless at seduction – he never would have managed the mission without my help. Sweet, innocent boy, really. Clearly crazy about Agent Walker. I never did find out whether the Montgomery worked for him," the aging lothario mused.

"The Montgomery?"

"White dinner jacket, bottle of wine, rose. Classic seduction."

Veronica suppressed the urge to pursue this line of questioning – it was clear the man didn't know how Chuck's relationship with Walker had progressed, and there was a good chance the questions would open her up to further come-ons, which she preferred to avoid. "Tell me more about Agent Walker."

"Of course. Devastating woman, in every sense of the word. Scintillating beauty, and a first-class spy as well."

"Anything else?"

"Sorry. I'd be perfectly willing to make a few things up if it would keep you around, though."

Veronica hurried from the house, trying very hard to focus on fitting the facts together rather than the vaguely haunting mental image of the old man in a white dinner jacket.

* * *

"I was sent to Los Angeles to conduct a 49-B," Agent Alex Forrest recited. "General Beckman felt that Walker was developing an unwise emotional attachment to her asset, and asked for my assessment of the situation. I joined the team for a mission and concluded that the General was correct. I was temporarily assigned to the team to replace Walker, but the asset was kidnapped while she was gone. Neither I nor Casey realized that he'd been taken. Walker came back, directly violating orders, and played a key role in the rescue. After that, General Beckman concluded that Walker was a better fit for the team than I was."

Veronica wasn't sure which of her reactions was strongest, but she was leaning toward disgust at the fact that Forrest seemed to consider following orders more important than saving a man's life. However, the CIA agent was sufficiently imposing that Veronica decided it was a bad idea to vocalize that particular opinion. "So Chuck and Walker had strong feelings for each other?"

"That was my finding, yes."

Veronica waited, unsure whether the other woman was done talking. "Care to elaborate?"

"I'm not sure what else there is to say. They were both clearly distracted. It seemed likely to interfere with the team's performance. I could provide more details under normal circumstances, but in this case I have to rely on memory alone, as I was instructed not to file a written report."

"What do you remember about each of them individually?"

"Walker was a fine agent, when she was paying attention. Bartowski struck me as a dreadfully sentimental waste of resources. Why two of the government's finest agents were stationed around him for so long, I have no clue. I was never fully briefed on the operation."

"Bartowski?"

"The asset."

The FBI agent nodded, noting that even Walker's temporary replacement didn't know what Chuck's role was. "Any other information on him – family, that sort of thing?"

"I infiltrated his sister's fiancé's bachelor party as a stripper."

Veronica forced herself to hold back a myriad of snarky comments. "So she's married now?"

Forrest shrugged. "How should I know?"

"Thanks for your help." On the way out, Veronica called the LA field office and asked them for whatever information they could find on Charles Bartowski. Checking her list, she saw that her supply of American contacts had run dry. There was only one name left, and any questions he answered would be strictly a courtesy.

* * *

"Ahh, Sarah Walker. Stunning creature. Delicate, yet deadly." Cole Barker sighed wistfully.

"How did you meet Agent Walker?"

"Her team and I interacted on a couple of missions. I'd infiltrated a terrorist group, and they were working against the same group. Sarah and I had an… encounter, which led to me revealing myself as MI-6. That caused a few problems, but everything worked out in the end. From a mission perspective, anyway."

Veronica had little trouble guessing which facet of things hadn't worked out. She decided to probe in that direction. "Tell me about Chuck."

Cole looked less bitter than she'd expected. "Good man, Bartowski. Far more capable than he seems when you first meet him. He comes across as a naïve, bumbling fool, and then before you know it he's done the job."

"I've heard from other people who worked with the team that Walker and Chuck had feelings for each other. Was that the case?"

He smiled sadly. "I'm afraid so. I invited her to join me in Fiji after we were done working together, and she turned me down."

Veronica studied Barker carefully. He clearly thought highly of himself in the realm of romance, albeit not unjustly. A loss like that must have been tough to swallow. She decided to move away from the touchy subject. "So tell me – why were two agents like Walker and Casey in Los Angeles protecting a naïve, bumbling fool?"

That question drew a surprised look from the British agent. "You don't know." She shook her head. "Well, love, if Casey and Sarah didn't tell you, I'm afraid I'll have to trust their judgment."

"Agent Barker, you know how important this investigation is."

He nodded. "I do. I also know how important that mission is."

"So you won't tell me?"

"Not even if you try to seduce it out of me. I'd enjoy the attempt, of course."

The FBI agent rolled her eyes, but couldn't quite avoid smiling. "You shouldn't have guaranteed that you'd hold out – that was my next move."

Cole laughed. "I'll have to remember that for next time." The agents shook hands and parted amicably.

* * *

Veronica stood in front of her fourth Buy More of the day, cursing herself for her failure to ascertain the exact location of Chuck's cover job. The FBI's search for Charles Bartowski had turned up nothing – no addresses, college records, employment information, not even a birth certificate. He'd been thoroughly expunged from all government databases. But she'd learned enough about the man to do some legwork back in her hometown. She walked into the store and toward the Nerd Herd desk.

"Hi there."

The small, slightly greasy Indian man behind the desk leered at her. "Hi there yourself," he replied in a voice that tried very hard to sound smooth and failed miserably.

"I'm looking for Chuck Bartowski."

The man's skull scarcely managed to hold back his bulging eyes. Veronica barely heard his frustrated whisper of, "Every time! Every time a hot piece comes in here, it's for Chuck. He hasn't even worked here for over a year!"

"So he did work here?"

"Yes, uhh, yes he did."

"Great! Could I please speak to the manager?"

"Certainly." The disappointed ogler scuttled away from behind the counter, returning in the wake of a very pretentious-looking bald man.

"Can I help you, miss?"

"Yes, hello. I've been told that Chuck Bartowski is a former employee of yours."

"Indeed he is."

"Could you give me his address?"

"I'm sorry young lady, but revealing personal information about employees is not the Buymoria way."

She leaned forward, her face stopping mere inches away from his, and thrust her badge directly under his nose. "It is the FBI way."

The manager grunted in disgust. "Very well."

* * *

Veronica allowed herself a satisfied sigh as she walked into the apartment complex she'd spent the better part of a week locating. She looked about casually, taking in what details she could from each unit. One of them appeared to be unoccupied. The landlord had mentioned that, but informed her that someone was paying the rent, so he didn't really care whether anyone actually lived there or not. Walking closer, she noted the presence of several skillfully-placed proximity sensors around the exterior of the dwelling. Peering through the window, she recognized a few other impressive security measures. Someone had made extensive modifications to this place, which explained the continued rent payments - the government didn't want anyone else living there.

Having gleaned all she could from the empty residence, she approached one of the neighboring doors. A woman answered after her third knock.

"What do you want? I already told the last Girl Scout that I'm not buying any cookies."

Veronica groaned at the predictable reference to her height and held up her badge. "Actually, ma'am, I'm with the FBI. I had a few questions for you about the people who used to live in the empty apartment next door."

"People? Weren't but one person in there. Real muscly guy, never talked much."

Veronica fished a picture of Colonel Casey out of her pocket. "Is this him?"

"That's him all right."

"Is there anyone around here who knew him better?"

"Don't think he was one for making friends. The Bartowskis probably knew him better than anyone."

"Where could I find them?"

A sad look crossed the woman's face. "The younger one, Chuck, he and his girlfriend moved away after the accident. Never did hear where they were going."

"His girlfriend?"

"Blonde, real good looking. I never could figure out why someone looked like that would be dating Chuck, even if he was a sweet kid. Sarah, I think her name was."

"You mentioned an accident."

"Yeah. The older sister, Ellie, and her husband Devon, died in a car crash. Wasn't even two months after the wedding."

Veronica's face fell. "I'm very sorry to hear that." She patted the woman's shoulder comfortingly. "Thank you for your help."

"It was really too bad," the woman continued. "He sure was a good looking guy. He went biking a lot, and he'd wear these shorts..."

As she bolted toward the parking lot of the complex, Veronica mused that the car accident seemed just a bit too coincidental. She called the Assistant Director in Charge of the LA field office. "Get me the files on all witness relocations from the LA area over the past two years."

She rolled her eyes at her boss's response. "Yes, I know the Marshals will whine about it. Show them my Presidential authorization. Thank you, sir."

Three hours later, she was booked on a flight to Tacoma, Washington, preparing a visit to Donald and Ellen Woodbridge.

* * *

"Thank you for meeting with me, Dr. Woodbridge. I came to talk to you about John Casey."

Ellie's eyes widened in alarm. "I'm afraid I don't know a John Casey."

Veronica smiled comfortingly. "I know you're a relocated witness. Don't worry, FBI agents are nearly as protective of witnesses as the Marshals are. Your secret is safe with me."

Ellie hesitantly nodded her acceptance. "John lived across the courtyard of our apartment complex for about two years, and worked with my brother at the Buy More. We had dinner together a few times. He was very gruff, but I always suspected he had a softer side as well."

"Are you aware that Mr. Casey also worked for the National Security Agency?"

"I wasn't until right before we had to move."

"Do you know what assignment brought him to Los Angeles?"

"I know that he worked with Sarah Walker and my brother. They didn't talk much about the work they did, but Sarah told me that their team had saved a lot of people."

"Why did the team have to move?"

"Sarah's cover was blown somehow – I think they said she was ambushed by assassins in her hotel room."

Veronica briefly wondered what genius at the CIA had decided an 18-month hotel stay was a plausible cover for a long-term assignment. "Have you heard anything from the team since the move?"

"Nothing from Sarah. Casey visited once." Ellie looked down as she finished her response.

The FBI agent took the next question in the obvious direction. "What about Chuck?"

Ellie didn't respond, merely staring at the floor. The other Dr. Woodbridge entered the room at this point, having heard the last few bits of conversation. He leaned over and whispered into Veronica's ear:

"Agent Mars… Chuck's dead."

* * *

A/N: So what happened to Chuck, and why has Sarah gone rogue? Find out in future installments of Sarah vs. the FBI! Also, let's throw in a little trivia. The neighbor Veronica interviewed actually exists on the show. What's her name?


	3. Conversation

A/N: I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country. Well, that, and the fact that I don't own Chuck. So I'm not quite as pure-hearted as Nathan Hale.

* * *

Chapter 3: Conversation

There were several aspects of being a spy that Sarah disliked – the unstable lifestyle, the lack of personal connections, the understandable yet unpleasant fact that the bosses cared more about the job getting done than about the well-being of their agents. But the thing she hated most about her profession was the occasional necessity of screwing up the life of a thoroughly blameless person.

Yes, Sarah knew the outcome of her last assignment had probably increased her sensitivity toward dealing with innocents. But that understanding didn't make her current task any less unpleasant. In fact, this time was worse than usual, because she couldn't lay the ultimate blame at the feet of her superiors. She was a rogue agent, entirely responsible for her own actions.

Sarah did her best to distance herself from the moral ramifications of her self-assigned mission. The best way she knew to achieve that distance was to read the file again. Special Agent Veronica Mars was based in the FBI's LA field office, and had been loaned to DC for the Beckman case. Assigned to investigate John Casey, she'd been working her way through Team Chuck's contacts. Somehow, she'd found her way to this house – and that was unacceptable. Ellie and Devon could not be allowed to reappear on the intelligence community's radar. They were family, or at least the closest thing to it that Sarah had ever experienced, and she would do whatever was necessary to protect them from her world.

Her determination returned in full force with that thought, and its timing was perfect. The target emerged from the Woodbridges' house looking flustered, even mortified. That meant she'd also be distracted, which was helpful. Sarah scanned the street one last time, seeing no pedestrians, and alighted silently from the car she'd rented using a throwaway identity. She moved across the street as rapidly as possible while using the mark's FBI-loaned SUV to screen her from view. Crouching behind the vehicle with tranquilizers at the ready, she waited for the other woman to retrieve her keys, then fired twice.

Sarah quickly hoisted the unconscious woman into the passenger seat, pausing to retrieve the FBI identification from the agent's jacket pocket and stick an image of her own face over that of the badge's owner. After all, even though it wasn't likely that they'd be stopped, it was best to prepare for every contingency, and it was much easier to talk your way out of trouble as a Fed. Her task complete, she drove out of the neighborhood and settled in for the 17-hour trip home.

She found herself distressingly calm for someone who'd just kidnapped a federal agent.

* * *

Veronica stirred sleepily. She slowly opened her eyes… and detected no difference between open and shut. So the room was dark. She tried moving around – her arms were free, but her legs and torso were pinned to her chair by metal bands, which she was unable to remove. No escaping, then.

Having learned what little she could from her senses, Veronica decided to take advantage of her isolation to ponder the case. Her recently tranquilized state made it difficult to collect her thoughts. But she remembered Chuck… and she remembered that he was dead.

In Veronica's experience, nothing compared to the rush of feeling that washed over her when she put all the pieces of a case together. Apparently, that was unchanged by the fact that she'd been abducted. As she felt her brain slide the details of Beckman's murder perfectly into place, she breathed a sigh of absolute contentment. She knew why Sarah Walker had gone rogue. Moreover, she had a good guess as to who had caused Chuck's death – and if she was right about that, she was pretty sure she also knew why General Beckman had been killed.

Satisfied though she was, it didn't take long for Veronica to discover that a big part of what she loved about having a complete picture of a case was the flurry of activity that immediately followed. Having pieced this one together, she felt the expected surge of adrenaline. Unfortunately, the fact that she was fastened to a chair and deprived of any input to four of her five senses meant that she had no outlet for the resulting energy. Veronica's original intent had been to wait for her captors to make the first move, but the emptiness of the room soon became unbearably stifling.

"Hello?" She barely recognized her own croaking voice. But it was still better than silence. "Is anyone there?"

"Ahh, Agent Mars. You're awake." The responding voice was definitely female. Apart from that, it was… detached? Professional? Cold, even. Veronica made the logical guess as to the identity of the speaker.

"Sarah Walker, I presume."

The voice chuckled. "Very good, Agent Mars. Although technically I haven't been Sarah Walker for over a year now."

"Since Chuck died, right?" The voice did not respond, so Veronica pressed the attack. "I'm a little disappointed in you, Agent Walker. Here was this legendary unstoppable spy who betrayed her country. It had all the makings of a classic espionage tale if you'd been bought off by the Chinese, or secretly had Russian sympathies all along. But it turns out that the great Sarah Walker just lost it over a boy."

A small lamp switched on. It was standing on the table that Veronica now learned was in front of her. Across the table was a beautiful blond-framed face that regarded the FBI agent with a deadly cold stare. "Not quite, Agent Mars. I lost it over a _man_. A man who gave up more for this country than anyone else I've ever met, and who accomplished more in its defense than you can possibly imagine. And after all that, his own government turned its back on him."

Veronica allowed herself a small victorious smile. Here she was, tied up and at the mercy of an exceptionally dangerous person – and she was still the one conducting the interrogation. "So is that why General Beckman is dead?"

Agent Walker leaned back, closed her eyes, and laughed. "Impressive, Agent Mars. You're very good."

"That's not really an answer."

"No, it isn't."

Veronica raised her eyebrows in a silent request for clarification.

"No, that wasn't an answer. And no, I didn't kill General Beckman."

"I hope you'll excuse me if I find that a little hard to believe. You've got a pretty substantial motive, and I suspect you're quite capable of slipping into Ft. Meade undetected."

Walker smiled wistfully. "I have an alibi, of sorts."

"I'd love to hear it."

"September 24 was Chuck's birthday. I spent the evening here, getting drunk."

"And where is here, exactly?"

"Not close enough to DC that I could slip over there for a quick murder."

"You realize there's no chance of my taking your word for it, of course."

"Naturally. Which is why I have a proposition for you."

"Oh?" That was unexpected.

"We work together to solve the case. I help you catch whoever did it, and clear my name."

"Why would I want to work on a case with someone who I'm pretty sure committed the murder?"

"Because it'll keep me within your reach. If you say no, I'll disappear permanently."

"And why would you bother helping me if you can just disappear?"

"Honestly? Disappearing is a pain in the ass, and I'd rather just be left alone."

Veronica was surprised to realize that both of those answers made sense. She was even more surprised to hear her own response to Walker's offer. "All right. Let's solve this thing."

"You sure you don't mind working with a rogue agent?"

"It wasn't on my to-do list this morning. But you made a good argument. Let's get started."

Walker nodded. "Good. Here are the names of three operations that I suspect are connected to the murder." She handed Veronica a list. "Pull all the information on them that you can."

Veronica studied the page briefly. "What makes you think they're connected?"

That drew a smile. "You're the investigator. You figure it out."

"That's really how you want to play this?"

"Until I'm sure I can trust you, yeah."

Veronica sighed. "Fine, I'll get the files. Then what?"

"Then we'll talk again. I'll find you."

Veronica intended to ask how exactly she'd be found. But she found herself uttering a muffled curse instead as the dart signifying the end of the conversation impacted her arm.

* * *

Veronica had awoken in her own bed, rested and healthy. Her initial hope that her encounter with the legendary rogue agent had been a dream had been abruptly dashed when she found the list of operations she was supposed to research on her nightstand. The second reminder of the meeting was the presence of the SUV she'd been loaned in Seattle, which had greeted her in the driveway. Grimacing at the thought of the paperwork that would be required to deal with her unsanctioned interstate travel in a government vehicle, she'd driven the renegade automobile into the office. After filling out the request for the operational files Walker had recommended, she'd passed the rest of the day wading through the bureaucracy of the Seattle motor pool. The requested files had arrived just as she was preparing to leave the office, and she decided to spend the evening reviewing them at home.

The three operations were virtually identical – elite teams that worked against Fulcrum, a rogue splinter of the intelligence community. They'd all had some very successful missions, and then been cut down without warning. The best agents for two of the teams had been ambushed at home, which Veronica realized was strongly reminiscent of the story she'd heard about Walker being attacked in her hotel room. The third team had lost two of its members to a car bomb. It was certainly suspicious, suggesting a leak in the command structure somewhere. But it didn't seem like anything that could be connected to the murder... unless Walker was suggesting that Beckman was the leak, and that the surviving members of these other teams had just as much motive for revenge as she did. Given the fact that several of the agents involved in these operations would likely be skilled enough to pull off the killing, it appeared to be a valid point.

The FBI agent groaned in disappointment at the increasingly muddled state of the case. Deciding that she could just as easily worry about it tomorrow, she stood from her kitchen table and moved to get ready for bed. Once she lay down, Veronica found that sleep came far more easily than she'd expected after having been snatched off the street by a rogue CIA agent the day before.

It didn't stay long. Veronica woke a mere two hours later to the sound of footsteps. Slipping silently out of bed, she cracked her door open and peered out. She saw half a dozen men working their way through her house, with two of them moving in her direction. Withdrawing quickly, she stole over to her closet, where she kept her sidearm, and waited.

Given the odds against her, Veronica decided that she needed kill shots. Thus, when the bedroom door was kicked open, she held her aim at head level. Unfortunately, the first man rolled in below her line of fire, taking cover behind the bed and chasing Veronica back into the closet with a three-round burst. She was thoroughly pinned down, and now that the strike team knew where she was, their full force could be quickly assembled.

This was not good.

* * *

A/N: Thoughts? Questions? Predictions?


	4. Clarification

A/N: To own Chuck or not to own Chuck, that is the question. Unfortunately, in my case, the answer is not to own Chuck. (Or Veronica Mars.)

Many, many thanks to Arathorn73 for the beta. This chapter would have been infinitely more confusing without his input.

* * *

Chapter 4: Clarification

Moving deeper into the closet, Veronica hid behind a row of hanging shirts. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths and to listen intently for the sounds of approaching attackers.

They never came. Instead, she heard what sounded like… fighting? There were a couple of grunts and an indistinct impact noise, followed by a crash. She'd been alone in the house. So who the hell was fighting?

"Agent Mars? You can come out now. It's safe."

Veronica crept to the closet door and peered cautiously around the corner, looking for the source of the unfamiliar male voice. Her two assailants were unconscious. One of them lay sprawled across the threshold of the room, while the other appeared to have been knocked into her nightstand by a floor lamp that had been in the hall the last time she'd seen it. A tall man stood in the middle of the room, surveying his apparent handiwork. As he turned toward her, Veronica was struck by the idea that she'd seen his face before. Then she remembered: it was in a picture above the fireplace at the home of the Doctors Woodbridge. Her eyes widened and her gun lifted to point at him. "You're dead!"

The man smiled disarmingly, which was the most disorienting reaction the FBI agent had ever seen to a gun. "Not if you don't shoot me, I'm not."

Veronica held her aim steady, although her mind was currently anything but. "Chuck Bartowski?"

He replied with a slight but theatrical bow. "At your service." He turned toward the door. "Sarah, will you come in here? Our FBI friend seems a bit jumpy."

Sarah Walker stepped into the room, and immediately reached for her waistband. Chuck held up a warning hand. "I don't think that's the best idea at the moment, honey." He turned back to Veronica, whose mouth had dropped open. "You're okay, right? You're not hurt?" She shook her head dumbly. "Good," he nodded his approval.

"It was kind of close, though."

Chuck turned to Sarah, smiling smugly. "See? Told you we needed both of us on this one."

Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress an answering grin. Moving to embrace Chuck, she looked toward Veronica and fondly commented, "He's always right. It's a little annoying."

Chuck leaned down for a brief kiss. Veronica gaped at the utter normalcy of the romantic display between a rogue agent and a dead man. "Wait a minute. How did you guys know you needed to be here?"

Chuck turned to Sarah, leaving her to answer that question. "We kind of provoked them into coming. Tell me about the operational files you pulled."

"They were all teams fighting this Fulcrum group that lost agents."

"How did they lose the agents?"

"Umm… suspiciously? Through some kind of spy work, it seems like. Maybe Fulcrum taking revenge."

Sarah shook her head. "The Minneapolis team had eliminated Fulcrum from the city entirely, and they've been getting beaten pretty badly all over. Fulcrum doesn't have enough resources left to waste troops on revenge missions."

"Someone else then. Do they have allies?"

"Not so much allies as superiors." Sarah looked up at Chuck. "This was your big discovery, babe, why don't you explain it?"

Chuck complied. "About a year and a half ago, our team ran into a group of spies from something called the Ring. Fulcrum was described as part of that organization. With the best anti-Fulcrum teams being destroyed by someone else, my conclusion was that the Ring has been using Fulcrum to draw out the best American intelligence agents, and then sending its own people to take them down."

Veronica nodded thoughtfully. "So you sent me after those files to make them think I'd caught on to their pattern."

"Exactly."

"Isn't that playing a little fast and loose with my life?"

Chuck turned toward Sarah. "Wasn't my idea," he replied pointedly.

She glared back at him. "You know we had to make sure she wasn't Ring. And it worked out all right." She glanced around the room, pausing when she saw the man by the nightstand. "Say, what's with the lamp?"

"It made a passable improvised spear."

Veronica scoffed. "What, are you an Olympic javelin thrower or something?"

The couple exchanged glances that were clearly meaningful, though Veronica had no clue what they meant. "Something," Chuck replied tersely.

"He's a man of many occasional talents," Sarah added elusively before changing the subject. "So what do we do with our friendly neighborhood strike team?"

Chuck considered the question briefly. "I think we tie them up, hands and feet, and leave them here. They'll get out, but it'll take a while – certainly long enough for us to get away clean."

"Wait, what? Shouldn't we call the police?" Veronica protested.

Chuck shook his head. "If they're arrested, they'll be broken out, and some prison guards would probably be killed in the process. And if we kill them," he said, turning to Sarah, "then we either take time we don't have to dispose of the bodies, or Agent Mars here has to explain the six corpses."

"They attacked me!" protested the agent in question.

"And you managed to hit each one of them with a single shot to the head, without missing once and with no scratches on you? I've no doubt you're a very capable shot, Agent Mars, but that stretches credibility a bit. Even Sarah might have a little trouble pulling that off," Chuck finished with an admiring smile.

Veronica considered the fact that the couple in front of her had far more experience in these situations than she did and conceded the argument. "What do we tie them up with?"

Chuck produced a package of zip ties, giving a handful to each woman. "Here. Hands behind them." He and Sarah left the room, leaving Veronica to deal with the two men in her bedroom.

She emerged two minutes later to find Sarah finishing up in the living room, and Chuck returning from the kitchen. The male half of the team spoke. "All right, Agent Mars, it's about time we got out of here. Anything we can help you pack?"

"Pack?" Veronica asked in confusion.

Sarah responded. "I said I'd find you. Consider yourself found. If you're still in for the investigation, it'll be at least a couple of weeks."

"And where are we going?"

"Back to base," Sarah responded elusively.

Chuck gave her a look. "We just risked her life. We're telling her." Sarah sighed her assent, and Chuck turned to Veronica. "Base is a small abandoned airport in Moab, Utah."

* * *

"So, uhh…"

Chuck grinned sympathetically. Sarah was dozing fitfully in the back seat, her protective instincts having finally been overcome by three days of sleep deprivation. Since Sarah had fallen asleep, Veronica had stopped just short of asking him a question four times. On the fifth attempt, she'd finally managed to make noise. Her struggle reminded him of his own whirlwind introduction into spy world.

"How?" he prompted helpfully.

"Yeah," Veronica replied sheepishly.

"What have you heard? Apart from the fact that I'm dead, I mean."

She paused before answering, appearing to search her memory. "You're a nice, naïve, sentimental, awkward guy, and nobody knows why you're involved in espionage."

Chuck's grin doubled in size. "Sounds about right. And what did Sarah say?"

"That you've done as much for the country as anyone she's ever met, and that the government turned on you."

"She exaggerates the first part – after all, she's slightly biased in my favor. But the second part is basically correct."

"What happened?" Veronica prompted.

He sighed. "Beckman decided that I was a liability – overly emotional, introduced unnecessary security risks. I got kidnapped, which was an unfortunate habit of mine that I've worked very hard to break, and she wasn't going to send anyone after me. Sarah had to rescue me on her own."

"That explains the going rogue," Veronica mused. "But not how you're dead."

"I should really let Sarah tell you that one – it was her moment of genius. Honey?"

"Blew up the building," Sarah's voice mumbled sleepily. Her eyes never opened.

"Looks like that's all we'll get out of her for the moment. Guess I should let her snooze – she's had a long week."

"She blew up a building?" Veronica looked suitably impressed.

"_She_ didn't," Chuck clarified. "She did, however, manage to convince someone else to do it – the Air Force, I think."

"How did she do that?"

"As much as Beckman didn't want me working for her, she didn't want me working for someone else quite a bit more."

"Sarah told her where you'd been held after she got you out."

"More or less – she got word to her indirectly, anyway."

"Whoa. It's one thing to sell a death with a fake car accident or something. But convincing the Director of the NSA that she's actually killed someone?" She shook her head in admiration. "That's nice work."

"Told you it was brilliant."

Veronica paused, thinking over how that must have happened. "You know, everyone knew she was crazy about you."

"Got us into trouble a few times," Chuck confirmed.

"They would have expected some kind of breakdown after she put you in danger. She must be a tremendous actress. But then, I guess I already saw that."

"In your interrogation?" Chuck smiled. "I don't think she was acting. She really was furious when she found out they'd cut me off. If anything had actually happened to me…"

"I'd be arresting her right now."

"Oh, I very much doubt that. First, you wouldn't have caught her. And second, she wouldn't have waited anything close to a year."

Veronica lapsed back into silence, hesitant to ask her next question. But it was probably best to get it out of the way while Sarah dozed. "So what is it about you that has everyone all up in arms, anyway?"

Chuck merely shook his head.

"Why not? You've told me everything else."

"I think Sarah would kill one of us. And she seems to be pretty attached to me, which doesn't leave a whole lot of options."

"Come on. Not even a hint?" she coaxed.

"I kind of became a spy by accident – turns out, I have a unique ability that the government was able to use. That's all I can give you."

"Fair enough." Veronica closed her eyes and spent the remainder of the drive making up for the sleep she'd been denied earlier in the night.

* * *

"All right," Veronica said as she and Chuck settled into a room which she recognized as the interrogation chamber where she'd spent her last visit. "Here's the main FBI file on the case. It'll actually be my first time going through the paper version – we saw it on PowerPoint at the initial briefing." She started looking through the pages, handing each one across the table to Chuck as she finished it.

"Huh," she mused, discovering a picture of an elephant. "What the heck is that doing there?" Examining it perplexedly, she tossed it aside and began looking through the crime scene photos.

"Interesting," Chuck commented as he read over the description of the crime. "The security footage was looped."

"That mean something to you?" Veronica asked.

"It, uh, sounds like something I would do," he replied hesitantly.

"And how would you do something like that?"

"You're working with us – I'm sure you'll see soon enough."

Sarah entered the room, carrying a tray of rudimentary lunch components. "Sandwiches all right with everyone?"

"That's fine, sweetie."

"Yeah, no prob…" Something in one of the photos caught Veronica's eye. She focused in on it carefully.

Chuck and Sarah stared at the FBI agent as her eyes rolled back for nearly five seconds. As she came out of it, they turned to look at each other. Chuck broke the silence first.

"Did she just…"

"Yup. Looked exactly like you did early on."

"But that's…"

"Impossible? Apparently not." Shocked as they were, neither Chuck nor Sarah noticed Veronica standing and walking across the room until she'd pinned Sarah's arms behind her back and applied handcuffs.

"Sarah Walker, you are under arrest for the murder of General Diane Beckman."


	5. Explanation

A/N: I shall begin with Josh Schwartz, Chris Fedak, and Rob Thomas: it is both just and proper that they should have the honor of first mention on an occasion like the publication of a new chapter. They owned Chuck and Veronica Mars without break in the succession from season to season, and didn't hand them down to me.

I offer approximately 1.3 million thanks to Arathorn73 for his beta read. Coincidentally, that's the factor by which his input improved this chapter.

* * *

Chapter 5: Explanation

"WHAT?" Sarah exploded. Before she could react physically, Veronica attached her to a chair with a second set of cuffs.

"You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot…"

"Agent Mars, what's going on?" Chuck interrupted.

"Well, Mr. Bartowski, I've just arrested your girlfriend for murder. What I'm doing now is called 'reading her her Miranda rights.' It keeps her conviction from being thrown out."

"I got that part. WHY are you arresting her?"

"Because she did it?" Veronica rejoined sarcastically.

"Based on what evidence?" Chuck demanded.

Veronica paused. "Sarah Walker, rogue CIA agent, associate of the late Charles Bartowski. Seen on security footage at Baltimore-Washington International the afternoon of September 24, the date of Diane Beckman's murder. Last known residence: Grand Rapids, Michigan." Her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Wait, how do I know that?"

Chuck blinked in amazement and turned to Sarah. "Wow. She really flashed."

"Focus, Chuck," Sarah said threateningly.

"Right. Okay, show me the picture you were looking at, Agent Mars."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to prove to you that the majority of that information is false – or at least, not necessarily true."

"Bad idea, Chuck," Sarah objected.

"Keeping you out of prison seems like a pretty good idea to me," he replied.

"I think we could manage that easily enough between the two of us without completely blowing your cover."

"And I think we'd be breaking our rule against harming innocent government agents."

"I hate to interrupt, but under what twisted interpretation does kidnapping not fall under the category of 'harm'?" Veronica queried.

"That was a special circumstance – you were involving Ellie in a Federal investigation. There's a lot that could go wrong if her name pops up on a report as a source of information on a top-secret project," Chuck answered. "So that one fell under the family-related exception to the rule."

"And it seems like your _wife_ should qualify as family," Sarah commented acidly. Veronica couldn't help grinning at the amount of possessiveness packed into the comment.

"She does… you do," he corrected quickly. "But I'm still not going to hurt our friend here unless there's no other alternative. So as long as she's willing to let me make my case…" he turned to Veronica, who nodded her assent. "The picture," he requested. She handed it across, and he studied it meticulously. "I'm not getting anything. Was there anything that seemed… unusual in the file?"

"I don't… wait, there was a picture of an elephant in there. Like that?"

"Yeah. Can I see that?" Veronica handed it over and Chuck's eyes locked onto it for a moment. He then picked up the other picture again, scanning it carefully… and reacted. Veronica watched in stunned silence as his eyes lost focus, his facial muscles slackened, and his head drooped forward. He snapped back to attention just a short time later.

"What the… was that a…"

"Flash?" Chuck finished the question for her. "Yup. I saw the same information you did. More painfully than I've been accustomed to lately – they're using an older encoding process." He rubbed his forehead gingerly.

"Encoding process?" Veronica asked in confusion.

Chuck turned back to Veronica. "Give me a couple minutes. Do you have an ID I could borrow?" She handed him her driver's license and he left the room.

The FBI agent turned to her prisoner. "What the heck is he talking about?"

Sarah glowered menacingly at her captor, declining to answer.

"You know he's going to tell me anyway," Veronica observed reasonably. "The sooner I learn everything, the sooner the cuffs come off."

Sarah sighed. "It's an extremely secret project, the one Chuck worked on with Casey and I. He has a unique ability to assimilate and retrieve data that's been encoded into images. And based on what we just saw, you might share that ability."

"Is it supposed to give me an enormous headache?"

"You get used to it," Chuck replied as he reentered the room carrying a laptop. The computer's screen displayed an image of a lily. "All right, Agent Mars. Look at this picture, if you would."

Veronica complied. Like the elephant in the case file, the lily looked almost entirely ordinary – yet there was something about it that held her attention. "Okay…" she said skeptically.

"Done? Now look at this," Chuck said, holding out her driver's license.

Veronica accepted the ID, and her eyes once again rolled back. Coming out of the trance, she recited the following: "Veronica Fennell. Born Veronica Mars. Devout Mormon, wife of Wallace Fennell, middle school teacher in Provo, Utah." She frowned. "What the hell? None of that is even remotely true."

Chuck gestured toward the image of the lily. "Let me show you how it's done." He zoomed in on one of the petals. "Here is the picture from your license." Moving across the image, he stopped near the base of the bloom. "Here is a marriage certificate for you and Mr. Fennell, issued at the Mormon temple in Salt Lake City." He scrolled some distance down the stem. "And here is a tax form filled out in your name at the middle school. The picture on the license triggered your brain to access the other images, and you put the distinct bits of information together. Does that sound like something you'd be able to do?"

Veronica blinked. "Yeah, I've always been good at piecing together information. It's a useful skill to have in the FBI."

Chuck nodded and continued the explanation. "The picture of the elephant was encoded just like this one, albeit not as smoothly. Instead of a fake marriage certificate and W2 form, it contained false evidence implicating Sarah in the murder."

"All right, say I accept that the information was faked. That still leaves open the question of where she was on the night in question."

Chuck blushed, leaving Sarah to answer. "September 24 is Chuck's birthday, remember? What would you guess we were doing?"

Veronica couldn't resist baiting the other woman just a little. "What any boyfriend and girlfriend would be doing, I suppose."

"Husband and wife," Sarah growled. "And by the way, Chuck, don't think that I missed your failure to correct Agent Mars on the nature of our relationship earlier."

"She had just arrested you! I thought other considerations were more important at the time."

Sarah raised her eyebrows skeptically. "You expect me to believe that you didn't correct that particular mistake from a very attractive woman out of concern for me?"

"I… what?" Chuck stammered.

Sarah's menacing façade collapsed as she burst out laughing. "You're too easy."

"Mm hmm. Agent Mars, I don't suppose you'd mind leaving Sarah cuffed for a while longer, would you?"

Veronica's eyes widened. "Actually, I think I'd better let her go now. I'm a little worried about potential birthday reenactments breaking out if I don't." She walked across the room and unlocked the restraints. "Now. Tell me more about this project. What else can you do with encoded images?"

* * *

"Are you sure you're all right with this, Chuck?" Sarah asked gently.

He sighed in response. "It was her idea. And she's right – it could be helpful during the investigation."

"But she doesn't know how it has to be tested. You do."

"I know."

"So?"

Chuck closed his eyes contemplatively. "Who are the candidates?"

"The two that fit the profile best are Keith Mars, the father, and Logan Echolls, the occasional love interest."

"What do we have on them?"

Sarah laid several photos of each man on the table and recited the relevant facts. "Mars was formerly the Sheriff of Balboa County, and has been a private investigator since then. He and his daughter have always been very close. Echolls is the son of the famous actor, came into all of the guy's money when he was murdered. He and our FBI friend had a very stormy relationship for parts of two years. She finally called it off at the end of their freshman year in college. Since then, he's been using Daddy's money to duck Russian mafia hitmen."

Chuck's eyes opened in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. I figured you were just making sure I was awake." He looked over the pictures. "Am I the only one who finds it creepy how easily Dad is able to collect all of this information?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sarah grinned. "It's pretty helpful having our very own Mr. Universe."

Chuck turned toward her with a beaming smile. "You are so unbelievably sexy when you make science fiction references."

"Yeah? Well you're pretty damn attractive yourself when you slip your dad's creepily-gathered information into falsely encoded images, just to subtly let someone know you have it."

Chuck's smile took on a guilty twinge. "So you noticed that. I think you were the only one."

"Yeah, subtlety and intimidation are a difficult combination to pull off," Sarah replied. "You'll learn, though." Turning back to the matter at hand, she asked, "So which candidate do you like?"

Chuck's finger stabbed a picture of a well-built, sandy-haired young man. "Echolls."

"He might be tough to bring in – he's apparently pretty resourceful."

"I imagine a former Sheriff wouldn't go down too easily either."

"That's not why you picked him, though."

Chuck shrugged. "If we have to do this, I'd rather it be the guy who seems like kind of an ass."

Sarah grinned in response. "Who picks him up?"

"Either one of us should be able to handle that. So the question is who can keep Agent Mars busy."

"That's probably you."

Chuck smirked wickedly. "And how exactly will I accomplish this task?"

Sarah smacked him on the arm. "Not like that! Image encoding and stuff."

"Fine," he replied in mock protest. "But if she gets bored and tries to escape, I'm blaming you for restricting my options."

* * *

Logan Echolls had been on the run from the Russian mob since the end of his freshman year of college. For both his own safety and that of his friends, he'd avoided contact with anyone who knew him. For the same reasons, he also hadn't established any significant new relationships during that time. It had been an exceptionally lonely experience.

Despite his exhaustive precautions, it seemed like he'd finally been caught. But if he was accurately remembering blonde who'd captured him (and who'd subsequently played a prominent role in a couple of drug-induced dreams), he could take solace in the fact that every other man on the planet would have been equally willing to be fooled by the Department of Water and Power truck she'd driven to his house. As the fog of sleep began to dissipate, Logan wondered why he was dreaming at all. Despite his remarkable success in living on the run, he'd always figured they'd get him eventually – and he definitely hadn't expected to dream afterward, much less wake up. But that was undeniably what was happening.

His eyes half-open, Logan took in bits of an unfamiliar setting. His curiosity immediately shifted toward the topics of where the hell he was and what was going to happen to him.

"Good, you're awake." Logan's head snapped around until his eyes settled on a blonde who was leaned over a panel full of lights and monitors. She looked a lot like the DWP worker who'd captured him.

He seemed to be waking up in what appeared to be a laboratory, being examined by someone who was probably a Russian assassin. Logan tried to move into a better defensive position, and immediately regretted it as he was struck by a wave of dizziness. Whatever she'd used to knock him out, he was still feeling the effects. With movement eliminated as a viable option for the moment, he sorted through the dozens of questions that occurred to him, trying to find the one that was least likely to get him killed.

"Who are you?"

The blonde smiled coldly. "That is a very complicated question."

"Really? Because it doesn't seem complicated. The statement 'I'm a Russkie mobster, and I'm going to torture you to death' is not overflowing with nuance."

"You're right, it's not," she admitted. "But since I'm not Russian and am not going to torture you, I don't see what that has to do with anything."

Finding himself without even the barest understanding of his situation, Logan reverted to his default approach: snarky overconfidence. "Well then why am I here? Wait – don't tell me. You're going to take advantage of me, right? Honestly, you didn't have to drag me all this way. My place would have been just fine. My mattress is very springy."

Her smile grew colder, and she mumbled something that sounded vaguely like "Good choice, honey." Logan suspected that comment wasn't directed at him. In answer to his question, she said, "We have a mutual acquaintance in the FBI."

Logan was puzzled. "The FBI? I don't… wait, do you mean Veronica Mars?" The blonde nodded. "We haven't spoken in years!" Logan objected. "I didn't even know if she'd made it into the Bureau."

"That's not strictly relevant," she replied clinically. "You have a strong interest in her safety, do you not?"

"Well, yeah. I'd do anything to protect her."

"That's why you're here."

"Is she in danger?" Logan demanded in concern.

"Probably not. She'll be undergoing some tests for a top secret government program, and we like to have an advocate for our test subjects, that's all."

"Oh good. As long as it's not something _completely insane_." Logan struggled to his feet, battled back the resulting nausea, and examined his surroundings more carefully. The panel the blonde had been focused on had two displays – one labeled "CC" and the other tagged "VM." Both seemed to display various medical indicators – brain activity, heart rate, blood pressure, and a few others he couldn't identify. The control room overlooked a pristine white chamber that held a pair of overstuffed recliners. In each chair sat a test subject hooked up to several monitoring devices, which were clearly providing the data displayed on the control panel. "What's all this stuff for?"

"It would take a very long time to explain, Mr. Echolls. Please just allow us to do our jobs and everything should be fine." Further protests were cut off as she keyed a microphone. "Are the subjects ready, Agent Carmichael?"

Apparently satisfied with the response, the woman pulled a shade across the window that had provided the view into the test chamber. With that accomplished, she pushed an impossibly clichéd large red button.

* * *

Once the projector was warmed up, the assault of images came very quickly. Veronica had gone through bits of preliminary testing with Chuck over the past thirty-six hours, but nothing had prepared her for an onslaught of this magnitude. Her muscles went slack, her eyes lost focus, and she slid uncomfortably far back into her seat.

* * *

A mere five minutes after the testing had begun, a computerized voice calmly announced its completion. Logan was about to turn away when the VM readout panel started going berserk – the heart rate crashed and the brain activity stopped entirely. His heart leaping into his throat, he quickly pursued the tall blonde, who had calmly left the room. She pulled open the door to the testing area, revealing a brown-haired man, who appeared to have recovered immediately, and the body of Veronica Mars, which lay unmoving in its chair.


	6. Preparation

A/N: It is evident that the members of each television show should be as little dependent as possible on the writers of fan fiction for the emoluments attached to their offices. Were Chuck or Veronica Mars not independent of me in this particular, their independence in every other would be merely nominal. But since nobody on either show depends on me for payment, I really have no control over them at all.

Thanks as usual to Arathorn73 for the beta.

* * *

Chapter 6: Preparation

"What the hell did you do?" Logan screamed furiously.

The blonde had already crossed the room and was conversing calmly with the second test subject. Logan rushed toward her – and was surprised as she easily spun toward him and ended his assault with a kick to the side of the head, knocking him to the ground. She smoothly withdrew a gun from her waistband and aimed it casually in his direction. "Do not interfere again, Mr. Echolls, or things may become unnecessarily messy."

"Logan?" a familiar voice inquired. He turned toward Veronica's now-vacant chair. Its former occupant had apparently recovered quickly; she'd sprinted toward the mysterious blonde and was engaging her in hand-to-hand combat. To Logan's utter amazement, she disabled the larger woman within seconds, sending her flying across the room toward him. Moments later, she was beset by the brown-haired man, the two of them trading punches and kicks at speeds so fast that Logan struggled to follow their movements. Logan quickly stood to join the fight, only to be restrained by the defeated blonde.

"You really don't want to get into that."

"I have to help her!" he responded insistently.

The woman nodded toward the fighting pair. "Looks to me like she can take care of herself. And considering how quickly I took you down, I doubt you'd be much help."

Logan shook his head in bewilderment and conceded the point. "What the heck is going on?"

The blonde shrugged. "It worked."

"Wait, what? The testing was to turn Veronica into some kind of super-soldier?"

"Not exactly… but that's a good enough description for now."

Something still seemed off. Logan finally placed it. "But her monitors – her heart stopped!"

That drew a guilty smile. "No, it didn't. Agent Mars's readings were displayed under the 'CC' heading; she never moved into dangerous territory. The 'VM' data were fabricated. Our other test subject has gone through this numerous times and doesn't require any monitoring at this point."

"Why did you fake the measurements?"

"Frankly? To piss you off." She quickly cut off the coming complaint. "You needed to be goaded into attacking me, and I needed to kick the crap out of you. What you're seeing here," she said, gesturing toward the ongoing battle, "is a protective reaction that comes about when someone the subject has strong feelings for is in danger. So we had to create such a situation."

Logan partially suppressed a smile at the implications of that statement. "Shouldn't we stop them?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea – they're both already going to be sore tomorrow." She turned toward the combatants. "Chuck? Could you get her in some sort of restraining hold so the two of you can calm down?"

The man assented, pinning one of Veronica's arms behind her – only to be quickly flipped entirely over her body and onto his back. The blondes both smiled deviously. "Sorry, honey," the larger one said.

The man – Chuck – gasped for breath. "You knew that would happen? That's harsh, Sarah."

She shrugged innocently. "Had to end the fight somehow." She turned to Veronica. "Congratulations, Agent Mars. Looks like you're up and running."

Veronica smiled hugely. "All right then. Let's get to work on the case."

* * *

"So you're saying all this could realistically be done?" Veronica asked after gratefully downing the Ibuprofen that Sarah had provided to deal with her exceptionally sore limbs. The four occupants of what Chuck jokingly referred to as Moab International Airport were going over the case file for the sixth time. It felt more like the fiftieth to Veronica, but that probably had something to do with her aching joints.

She looked across the table at Logan. Her initial shock at his presence hadn't completely worn off yet, and her conversation with Sarah after the upload had been less than entirely reassuring. It had been explained that Logan's presence was necessary to trigger her fighting ability and thus test the Intersect, and that it would be safer for Logan if the exact nature of the project was kept from him as much as possible. Veronica had agreed hastily.

Both women had also wanted to keep Logan away from the case, but Chuck had argued effectively that his fresh eyes and outside perspective would be helpful, and that nothing he saw in the file would even approach the level of secrecy of the things he'd already witnessed.

"Yeah." Chuck's reply brought Veronica's attention back to the conversation. "Not easily, but it's definitely manageable."

"A phantom assassin gets past the outer defenses of one of the most secure military bases in the country, then enters the office of its highest-ranking occupant, fires multiple gunshots, and goes back out, and nobody knows he was there until they find the body? It's like something out of a cheesy spy movie," Veronica objected. "What makes you so sure?"

Ignoring Sarah's warning glance, Chuck answered, "I could do it."

"Really."

"Any electronic surveillance can be beaten." Chuck left the room briefly, returning with an imposing device strapped around his wrist. "You just have to have the right tools – and I have them."

Logan whistled. "That thing can hack into any electronic device?"

"Any two or three at a time, actually. More than that, I'd need my laptop to work with it."

"Sweet. I gotta get one of those," Logan said with an impish grin.

Chuck shook his head. "This thing is one of a kind, as far as I know. I guess the guy who made it might have another one. But you can't exactly find it on the shelves at the local Buy More."

"Could you get in without that?" Logan asked thoughtfully.

"You'd want something very similar to it, anyway – something that could remotely access the security cameras everywhere."

"What if you didn't have it? Then what could you do?"

Sarah spoke up. "If you couldn't alter the footage remotely, you'd have to do it at the source – you'd need access to the building security office, and probably the base office as well." After a pause, she smiled. "And there are quite a few people with access to those offices in the course of their daily work routines."

Chuck looked startled. "Of course! We've been assuming that the super-spy theory of the case is correct because it's possible. But it's not exactly the easiest way to do something like that. Why did we even start from that point?"

Veronica's face took on a concerned look. "It's how Director Sax described the crime. But that doesn't make sense."

"He could be an idiot," Sarah offered.

Veronica glared back. "He's the Director of the FBI!"

"Sure, that definitely eliminates stupidity as a possibility," Sarah smirked. "I suppose he could have ruled out access from the security office early in the investigation. When did you say the initial briefing was given?"

"Something like 1 PM Eastern."

"That's an awful lot of casework to have finished in the first, what, 12 hours after the murder took place? Seems unlikely. So, if we assume for the sake of our FBI colleague that her boss's boss is not a moron, I only see one more possibility: he steered the investigation away from the security office on purpose."

Veronica paled. "Jesus. That has unpleasant implications."

"Like what?" Logan asked.

"Like the director of the FBI being involved in the murder, or working with someone who was," Sarah replied.

The three experienced agents traded concerned glances for several seconds. Logan finally broke the silence.

"Wow, my first murder conspiracy at the highest levels of government! I'm practically shivering with excitement. What do we do next?"

That relieved the tension in the room to such an extent that Chuck was grinning as he answered. "I'd like to get my hands on the surveillance tapes for the rest of the building and the outer perimeter of the fort from that night."

"Why? Anything interesting will just have been looped over, right?" queried Logan.

"Yeah, but I should be able to set up something that can identify looped footage. That won't tell us what happened directly, but it'll at least give us an idea as to which areas of the fort the killer didn't want us to see, and when he didn't want us to see them."

"I can get you those tapes," Veronica offered.

"I'd be careful with that," Sarah warned. "Any official request for something outside the scope of your investigative assignment is likely to raise a red flag with Sax, especially if he's trying to keep the case from being solved."

The FBI agent smiled sweetly. "Who said anything about an official request?"

Sarah chuckled at that. "While you're exercising your charms on some poor desk jockey, I'd like to figure out why exactly the FBI dropped that elephant picture into the case file."

"I almost forgot about that." Chuck frowned in concern. "Do you think they know I'm… do you think they know about me?"

"I don't think so," Sarah replied. "If they did, it wouldn't make any sense for them to use me as bait, since we worked together. My guess is that whoever put this out there is just fishing blindly for someone who can interpret the information – if the FBI Director is involved, stuff like this could easily be slipped into any number of files."

"That seems a little desperate," Veronica commented.

"Not really," Sarah countered. "Your initial reaction was basically just curiosity, right? I doubt most people would put any more thought into the picture than you did. Plus, it almost worked. If we hadn't met you when we did, Agent Mars, you would have walked right into whatever trap they've set up in Grand Rapids."

Veronica blinked. "When I woke up this morning, I did not expect to say the words 'Thanks for kidnapping me.'" She chuckled. "So what's the plan in Michigan?"

"The basic idea is to spring the trap – I very much doubt they're equipped to handle someone like me."

"I don't know, Sarah," Chuck objected.

"Chuck, I'll be fine."

"I know you can take care of yourself, honey. I'm just not sure it's the best idea to send you in to trigger the ambush when you were supposed to be the bait. Seems to me that they might not buy the idea that you're there looking to bust yourself for murder."

Sarah laughed. "I guess I can see that being an issue."

"So Veronica or me, then? You and I could do it while she pulls the surveillance footage, or the two of you could do it while I run the analysis."

Sarah shook her head emphatically. "Not a chance. We're not springing a trap intended for someone with your special abilities by sending someone who actually has those abilities. It's way too risky."

Chuck knew better than to argue on the subject of protecting the Intersect – Sarah's opinions on the subject were unchanged despite her departure from the CIA. "That doesn't leave us a lot of options."

Logan looked nervously around the table. His three companions were all pointedly avoiding eye contact with him. He took a deep breath. "Fine, I'll save the day. But only if you ask nicely."


	7. Investigation

A/N: Wow, it's been a while since I updated this story. Sorry about that. In my defense, I moved halfway across the country last week...

Fellow citizens: The practice of all my predecessors imposes on me an obligation I cheerily fulfill – to accompany this chapter of my story with the assertion that I don't own Chuck.

* * *

Chapter 7: Investigation

"What?"

Chuck, Sarah, and Veronica spoke in unison. Chuck looked startled. Veronica was clearly alarmed. And Sarah was hiding a smile. Their combined reaction managed to puncture Logan's bravado.

"You don't… I mean, I thought…"

"No," Chuck replied quickly. "No, I was thinking that we'd just hold off on the Michigan thing until we could gather our manpower." Seeing Logan's crestfallen look, he began babbling. "Not that I'm saying you couldn't handle it…"

"I'm saying he couldn't handle it," Sarah muttered.

Chuck ignored her. "It's just, it'll be pretty dangerous, and it's a lot to take on for a first mission. I mean, my first mission was way easier than that."

"Chuck, you defused a bomb on your first mission."

He blushed slightly. "That wasn't technically a mission."

"Flew a hel…"

"Not a mission either," he quickly interrupted.

"Fine, you got kidnapped by an arms dealer," Sarah finished triumphantly.

"Sarah, how is this helpful? I'm trying to be diplomatic here."

"And I'm trying to point out that these things are very dangerous. I don't want Mr. Echolls rushing into anything he doesn't understand."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Mr. Echolls? Seriously? What with all the kidnapping and crazy medical testing and accusation of murder and infiltration of government conspiracies, it seems like you could at least crush my pride on a first name basis."

"Fine, _Logan_," Sarah emphasized. "We're not putting you in that kind of situation."

"You mean like not right away?"

"I mean like not ever."

"Oh come on!" Logan complained. "So you grab me out of my home and drag me here to test Veronica's crazy new abilities, and now I just sit here? Help me out here," he pleaded, turning to the smaller of the two blondes.

"Logan…" the FBI agent hesitated. "I know how you feel. But you haven't been trained for this sort of thing."

After an uncomfortably long silence, Chuck spoke up. "Neither was I."

"Chuck, your situation was entirely different. We had no other option but to take you into the field," Sarah argued.

"Look, he may not be a trained agent, but you don't duck the Russian mob for years without being a pretty capable person. And we could really use a fourth person, if only for the set of eyes and the pair of fists."

"So what, we should just bait Ring operatives, or whatever is waiting in Michigan, with a novice?" Sarah demanded.

"Oh, hell no," Chuck replied hastily. "But it'd be nice if you two could take a look at the place, figure out what we'll be up against when the four of us go up there together."

"I can do that well enough on my own," Sarah bristled.

"I know you can, honey," Chuck soothed. "But it would reassure me if you had someone with you who could defend the car while you're off being a super agent. And I know better than anyone how much you like to have someone waiting patiently in the vehicle when you come back," he said with a winning smile.

Sarah's sigh indicated her defeat. "Veronica, are you all right with this?"

Veronica bit her lip. "He's a big boy. He can make his own decisions. Let's get ready to go."

"I'll book the tickets," Chuck offered.

Logan looked surprised at that. "You guys don't have a plane here? It's an airport!"

"We've thought about it, but flying out of an abandoned airport would make it pretty tough to stay under the radar – literally," Chuck observed. "Anyway, it's about a 4 hour drive to Salt Lake, which isn't horrible."

"Still, flying commercial doesn't seem like the easiest way to stay hidden. There are how many people searching for you guys?" Veronica queried.

"Actually, they've pretty much quit looking," Sarah replied. "Plus, both of us have plenty of identities available."

"Fake IDs? Seems like a pretty simple way to get picked up," Veronica observed dubiously.

Chuck grinned. "What are we, amateurs? They're _real_ IDs."

Veronica looked skeptical. "You can't make real IDs."

The grin grew bigger. "You've got to let it all go, Veronica: fear, doubt, disbelief." Both women rolled their eyes at that. "Look, all it takes to make a real ID is the ability to modify a few databases. Considering the computer equipment you've seen around here, is it really that shocking?"

"That's a pretty impressive bit of spy magic – and yet, you still make the four hour drive to the airport," Logan commented dryly. "Tell me we at least get martinis, shaken not stirred."

"What makes you think we're flying first class?" Chuck replied with a wink.

Veronica stood. "While you two are bickering over travel arrangements, we'll go pack." She motioned to the other woman, and they both left the room to the sound of Logan claiming that the men were "negotiating," not arguing. Once they were in the hall, she quickly pulled Sarah aside.

"What's up, Veronica?"

The FBI agent hesitated before answering. "He would kill me if he knew I was doing this." She sighed. "Take care of Logan."

A knowing smile crossed the taller woman's face. "I'm… uniquely qualified to look after someone who's a novice in field operations. Trust me, he'll be fine."

* * *

"Veronica, are you sure this is the best way to get the security footage?"

"You heard Sarah. An official request will bring attention that we really don't want," Veronica's voice answered over the radio.

Chuck leaned back in the uncomfortable hotel chair with a sigh. "It just seems risky. I mean, I've seen Sarah manipulate plenty of people, but never while standing in a military security office."

He could almost hear a smile in the answering voice. "That's only because, as a CIA deep cover agent, she never had to. Believe me, she could pull this off in her sleep. The only reason it's me and not her is because my badge gets me onto the base."

"And you're just as up to it as she would be?"

"I've been doing this my entire life – honestly, I've missed it since joining the FBI," Veronica replied patiently. "How's the signal? Everything coming through?"

"Hearing you loud and clear, and the visual is as good as can be expected with the tiny camera. I was able to hear the guard at the base gate pretty well too," Chuck affirmed.

"All right. Showtime."

"What is it with you people and showtime? Sarah and Casey always said that too."

The FBI agent giggled softly. "Not a good time to make me laugh, Chuck. I'm just heading into the video archive office now."

Chuck watched the main Ft. Meade surveillance desk approach his field of view. It was manned by a single NSA analyst during the daytime shift, a young guy who could have stood to be in better shape. He could almost picture the predatory smile on Veronica's face.

"Can I help you?" asked the unsuspecting target.

"Yeah, hi. I'm doing this summer internship thingy with the FBI, and we're learning how to use the… what is it called when you have multiple video feeds in one file?"

"Multiplexing?"

"Yeah, that's it. We're learning how to use the machine that, like, makes that go away. My bosses said that your security footage is stored like that, right?"

"It sure is," replied the pudgy desk jockey with what he hoped was a winning smile.

"Great! I have a list of dates that I'm supposed to get the tapes for. They want the overnight stuff, from like 8 PM to 4 AM. That sounds awfully boring to me, but I guess there's like secret stuff happening during the day that we're not allowed to see."

"Sure thing. One problem, though."

"I don't have to fill out a bunch of forms or something, do I? I'm already running late…" Veronica asked in alarm.

"No, nothing like that. It's just that we don't use tapes."

"Oh, right! CDs. Blonde moment," she said with an apologetic giggle. She handed him the list – July 17, August 12, September 24, October 8. The analyst nearly tripped over his own feet in his hurry to find the right files. After locating them, he began making the needed copies.

"So what's a pretty thing like you doing in the FBI?"

"That's sweet," she replied with a blush. "I just like helping people, I guess."

"You know, the NSA helps people too. Communications intercepts, very big in the war on terror. You should think about working here."

"Gosh, I don't know, it sure sounds complicated."

"I'd be happy to teach you." Veronica offered no answer beyond a beaming smile, and the rest of the time needed to copy the CDs was spent in silence. The technician handed the discs across his desk. "Your order, madam."

"Thanks!" Veronica waved goodbye, maintaining her ditzy façade for nothing more than exactly the necessary amount of time. As she stepped from the security office, she immediately resumed her normal personality. "Chuck? I got them." No response was forthcoming. "Chuck?"

"Sorry," he replied hastily. "I had to turn off my microphone."

"And why is that?"

"I thought my uproarious laughter would be a distraction," he replied with a chuckle. "You really are very good at that."

"Told you," Veronica replied victoriously.

"So hey, why don't you stop by the crime scene on the way out?"

"Why? Something you want to see there?"

"God no. I've seen enough of that office on computer monitors and TVs to last a lifetime and a half," Chuck replied with a slight shudder. "I just figured you might want to have some excuse for having been on the base."

"Ahh, good call. I'll be interested to see the place anyway. We never actually went to the scene at the beginning of the case – just straight from the briefing to the interrogations."

"Well, have fun. Oh, one more thing, Veronica."

"Yeah, Chuck?"

"Try not to arrest anyone without actual evidence this time, all right?" He cut off the audio connection before she could respond.

* * *

Sarah took her time making one last study of the building schematics Chuck had obtained for the warehouse in Grand Rapids that had shown up as her base of operations in the false flash. "Let's go over it again."

"You'll slip in through that door," Logan pointed. "You'll look at the rooms you think are the most likely to be of interest. Then you'll come back out and we'll leave. I will 'guard the car,' which I assume is a way of keeping me away from the action without hurting my feelings."

"Hey now, I've been ambushed returning to my car before. It's not fun."

Logan smiled. "If you come out through the same door you used to enter, you weren't noticed and we can make a simple exit. If you come out anywhere else, I need to get the car running immediately and be ready for a more… abrupt departure."

Sarah nodded her approval. "Let's do this." She quickly departed from the car, taking a little extra effort to disappear from the view of its remaining occupant. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she chuckled at Logan's confusion. She'd always enjoyed throwing novice agents with that move.

Sarah cracked open the warehouse door as little as she possibly could while still fitting through. She silently shut the door and crept toward the first of the three areas that drew her interest, a nearby closet. Peering inside, she found a large generator. Her first impression was that it was simply a backup to public electricity – but all of the extension cords that were hooked up to it traveled up through the same hole in the ceiling. She needed to find out where they led. Stealing away from the closet, Sarah found the stairs and headed up.

The wires split into two groups. A quick examination revealed that the first ran into a room crammed with computer equipment. Sarah opened the door to the room where the second group ended. Seeing what was inside, she momentarily froze in shock. "Well… crap."

* * *

"You don't have the program already written?" Veronica asked in frustration.

"I need an input file to deal with, and creating one out of nothing would be a lot more effort that it's worth," Chuck replied patiently. "Anyway, how long do you think this is going to take?"

She scoffed. "This kind of software could take months to develop with a team of expert programmers working on it."

Chuck smiled in response. "Beautiful, smart, expertly flirtatious, and knows how long it takes to develop software? If I wasn't taken…" Veronica began tapping her foot impatiently, bringing him back on topic. "Right. Work. Well, it might take a team of expert programmers months to write this sort of code. But they wouldn't have Dad's special code development protocols on their laptops."

"Is that the Bartowski equivalent of Mom's secret recipe for rhubarb pie?"

"It's kind of like that, only if Mom was the best chef ever to work for the CIA. Watch," he commanded.

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, Veronica looked on in awe as the laptop's display went from a jumbled mess of images to dozens of distinct video streams from the main gate of Ft. Meade and the building that held Beckman's office. That was followed by a search for repeated frames in the video files at each location, which served to identify the looped footage. Finally, the computer displayed a blueprint of the office building in question, and traced a route through the building that crossed only looped cameras. "Wow," she gaped. "Not bad for an hour and a half of work."

Chuck grinned. "I think we've got our theory of the crime now, wouldn't you agree?"


	8. Presentation

A/N: Yet another slow update. Darn real life and its getting in the way of stuff.

When I was first honored with the idea to write fan fiction, the light in which I contemplated my duty required that I should renounce every pecuniary compensation. From this resolution I have in no instance departed; and being still under the impressions which produced it, I must decline as inapplicable to myself any share in the personal emoluments which may be indispensably included in a permanent provision for the people who own Chuck and Veronica Mars. Because, like, I'm not one of those people.

* * *

Chapter 8: Presentation

Logan Echolls had more experience in dangerous situations than most. He'd fought with gang members, both Irish and Latino, and stared down a distressingly high number of Russian mobsters. But he'd never experienced anything quite like the combination of tension and boredom that he felt while waiting for Sarah to emerge from the warehouse. He hoped he'd be able to stay alert enough to see her emerge.

It wasn't a problem. He was jolted into full awareness as a second-story window was kicked out, and quickly pulled the car beneath the shattered panes of glass.

Sarah jumped from the window, rolling off of the roof of the car and dropping to the ground. She flung the passenger door open and clambered inside. "Drive," she ordered.

Logan complied, stomping abruptly on the gas and drawing a loud squeal of protest from the tires. "What happened?"

Sarah shrugged, almost disturbingly nonchalant. "I got distracted just long enough for the guards to notice me, but I don't think they got a good look. With a reasonable amount of luck, they'll write me off as a vagrant or something and decide not to shut the place down."

"Do you expect to have any luck?"

That drew a sigh. "I'm not sure. It's an expensive facility, one I don't think they'd abandon readily – but it's also extremely secret. So it'll depend on how they balance cost and privacy."

"What was in there?" Logan asked tentatively.

Sarah grimaced. "Something I've seen more times than I care to remember." Logan waited for her to elaborate. She declined, and he settled in for a silent drive to the airport.

* * *

Chuck and Veronica had been waiting nearly a full day for Logan and Sarah's return. They'd worked out an entire theory of the crime, both motive and method, and were extremely eager to run it by the others.

Veronica was almost able to convince herself that she had no other reason for waiting in nervous silence next to the curly-headed nerd, both of them staring at the gate to the airfield and hoping to see a car in the distance. Of course, Chuck needed to be outside to press the button that opened the gate. Veronica didn't. But she was sure he appreciated the company. Yeah, that was it. She didn't want him to be lonely while he waited.

By the time Veronica had satisfied herself with that explanation, the gate was sliding open, a grey Camry was driving onto the airstrip, and Chuck was smiling widely. The car pulled up next to the two of them, and almost before it had stopped moving, Sarah had leapt through the driver's door and wrapped herself in Chuck's arms.

"Hi, honey. How was your trip?" Chuck asked with a grin.

"Fine, fine. Nothing out of the ordinary," Sarah replied, shooting a warning glance over at Logan.

Unfortunately, Logan was too distracted by his exchange of awkward stares with Veronica to notice. "Yeah, I know I jump out of second-story windows on all my vacations."

"Oh _really_," Chuck interjected teasingly. "If that's nothing out of the ordinary, maybe we need to revisit my bubble wrap suit idea for your solo missions."

"It wasn't that big a deal," Sarah protested. "There weren't even any shots fired. I've been in more danger serving hot dogs."

"That's comforting," her husband said with a roll of his eyes.

"Wait, hot dogs?" Logan asked. "You didn't happen to work at a Wienerlicious, did you?" Sarah shot him a murderous glare, startling him into silence.

Chuck ignored the interruption. His face became serious, and he leaned down to kiss the top of Sarah's head. "As long as you get home all right. If you ever don't do that, we'll have words."

Veronica was reluctant to break into the moment, but knew the conversation needed to get back on topic. "So what did you find there?"

Sarah made a sour face. "A… computer room," she said significantly.

"A _special_ computer room?" Seeing Sarah nod, Chuck whistled. "Damn. That probably makes it a Ring facility. We knew they had someone on the original team, but not that they could build a fully functioning machine."

Sarah shook her head. "I don't think it's an active computer – there's no way they'd leave that with just the two guards I saw there. It's probably just an upload facility."

"That's vaguely comforting, at least. Still, we'll have to deal with that at some point," Chuck said grimly. He perked up again as he went on. "Hey, we think we solved the case."

"That sounds like it should be good," Sarah replied with a smile, as she dutifully allowed her excitable husband to drag her into the building.

"So, Veronica went to the main security office…"

As Chuck and Veronica took turns explaining what they'd done, Logan sidled up to Sarah. "Can't they just get to the point?"

Sarah shushed him impatiently. "I'm listening."

"But we don't need to know all this stuff."

She turned to him angrily. "Look, you're already on my bad side after getting me in trouble for the window jump and reminding me of that miserable peasant girl uniform – which you do _not_ have permission to mentally picture me wearing, by the way. And you really don't want to be on the bad side of a former deep cover CIA agent. However, if you will shut up and let Chuck talk, I will consider letting you off the hook."

Logan's face took on an alarmed look, which he managed to conceal relatively quickly. Still, his voice held none of its usual smoothness as he whispered, "Why?"

Sarah smiled absently. "I like listening to him talk about technical stuff. He gets so excited." Snapping back to reality, she fixed Logan with a cold stare. "So don't interrupt him again."

"… and that's how we were able to figure out which cameras were looped," Chuck finished.

"What does that tell us?" Sarah asked.

In response, Chuck pulled up a diagram of the building. "The areas covered by looped cameras are marked in red. None of the ones outside the building were altered at all." Sarah examined the image carefully and nodded her understanding.

"Any chance of an explanation for those of us who aren't spy geniuses?" Logan queried.

"We're looking at the route between the security center and Beckman's office," Sarah replied. "Which tells me that she was almost certainly killed by someone on the night security detail."

"And it just so happens that one of the two night guards stationed in the building was a high school classmate and football teammate of the NSA deputy director who's thought to be the favorite to take over Beckman's position," Veronica added.

"That's an impressive coincidence," Sarah said with a small grin.

"Veronica tells me there are no coincidences in murder investigations," Chuck replied.

"Seems almost anticlimactic," Sarah said. "Nice work, you two. The only question now is what we do with the information."

"What do you mean?" Logan asked.

"We've got two high-ranking intelligence officials involved in a murder conspiracy, and one of them is running the investigation. We have to report this to someone," Chuck explained. "The question is, who?"

"It sure would be helpful if DNI had been filled," Sarah mused.

"DNI?" Logan queried.

"Director of National Intelligence," Veronica answered. "The post hasn't been occupied for a while now. Anyway, the FBI is out, with Sax's potential involvement."

"NSA too, with the deputy director being a likely suspect," Sarah continued.

"And the DEA doesn't really seem like the place for this sort of thing," Chuck finished. "That really only leaves one option."

* * *

Veronica waited nervously outside the massive oaken double doors. She'd never been in anything resembling a personal meeting with someone this important before, and the information she was bringing to the director of the CIA was even more important than the director herself. The official casework was impressively deep water for a third-year FBI agent – and even that didn't match what she _wasn't_ going to tell Director Reed.

A muffled voice sounded through the doors, interrupting Veronica's musings. "Come in."

Veronica complied, entering the room to find a not-quite 50-year-old brunette who stood mid-way between her own height and Sarah's and was in stunningly good shape for someone of her age and workload. Jodi Reed was something of a CIA legend for her successes in the field from an analyst position. Her record vaguely resembled that of a real-life Jack Ryan, which explained the heights she'd reached in the Agency despite her relative youth. "Director Reed, thank you for taking the time to meet with me."

"Not at all, Agent Mars," the older woman replied with a pleasant smile. "Now, you say Director Sax sent you to update me on the Beckman case." Seeing Veronica's nod, she continued. "That's interesting, because the Director has kept me posted on cases in the past, and he's always told me who he plans to send over. He never mentioned you." Veronica paled slightly. "So I'm forced to conclude that you've come here on your own, which is a very odd thing for an FBI agent to do, especially a youngster like yourself – unless she suspects her own Director of complicity in the crime she's investigating, or at least in covering it up. Am I close?"

The older woman's unerring assessment of the situation left Veronica momentarily gasping for air. Catching her breath, she managed to reply, "Pretty much right on, ma'am."

"Tell me what you've got, Agent Mars."

"Well, the Director aimed our investigation toward the theory that the killer came from outside the base. But my review of the building security footage indicated that the assassin was actually in the building legally, probably an employee," Veronica explained.

"And how did you draw that conclusion? I was under the impression that the murderer never appears on the tapes."

"That's correct, ma'am. But I examined the footage carefully to determine which feeds had been looped, and that analysis indicated that the killer's path to General Beckman originated in the security office itself." Veronica wasn't entirely sure the CIA director would accept this statement, but there was no way she'd bring Chuck into the conversation. "And since nothing out of the ordinary appeared on the footage of that office before the loop began, I suspect that one of the two guards on duty that night pulled the trigger."

"That is excellent work, miss," Reed said with a nod of approval. "The technical skill you must have to process that information this quickly is astounding. You've certainly got a bright future ahead of you in the Bureau." Veronica's smile was a mix of pride and nervousness. "So tell me this: why did one of the guards feel the need to kill the head of the NSA?"

"Are you a conspiracy theorist?" The Director shook her head with a reproachful smile. "Seemed worth a shot with a CIA type. Anyway, one of the guards was a high school associate of one of the leading candidates to take over Beckman's position. Maybe he was helping out a friend, maybe there were other factors involved. Seems like a bit too much just to be a coincidence, though."

"That makes sense," the Director replied as her right hand drifted idly beneath her desk. "But where does Sax figure into all this?"

Veronica noted the squeak of the office doors opening as she answered, "Maybe it's not Sax – someone else could have been pointing him in the wrong direction. I hope to have a firmer grasp on that aspect of the case a few days from now, but I thought it was worth bringing my progress to someone in the intelligence community." She glanced over her shoulder, seeing two very large men now flanking the door. The one on the right had a very distinctive scar on his cheek…

As she came out of the flash, Veronica added a final comment for the benefit of the other people listening to the conversation: "After all, this case could be sort of a turning point for inter-agency cooperation – a Fulcrum, if you will."


	9. Miscalculation

A/N: To a few of us here today, this is a solemn and most momentous occasion; and yet, in the history of fan fiction, it is a commonplace occurrence. The orderly borrowing of characters takes place as it has for a long time now, I guess, and few of us stop to think how unique we really are. But no matter how unique we are, I still don't own Chuck or Veronica Mars.

* * *

Chapter 9: Miscalculation

Sarah was nervous.

She knew all the reasons that she should expect Veronica's briefing to go smoothly, or at least as smoothly as could be expected given its rather unusual nature. The FBI agent was in a compound as secure as any in the United States – residual pride in her former agency compelled Sarah to list it even ahead of the exceptionally restricted Ft. Meade. She was talking privately with the most important and best-guarded person in that compound, in an office with a good number of hidden defensive measures known only to the Director. And Agent Mars could certainly take care of herself. All things considered, it was exceptionally unlikely that anything would go wrong. Chuck had given her a roughly estimated probability of success; it was well in excess of 99%. Although Sarah privately suspected that he'd just made that number up, she knew there was no real reason that anything bad should happen.

And she still worried. It probably had something to do with the fact that the last simple mission she'd worked had turned into a harrowing two-year babysitting job that had resulted in both her wedding and her self-exile from the CIA. After that, she knew she'd never trust another easy one.

In this case, however, there was another source for her discomfort. In the unlikely event that trouble did arise, the situation would become very bad very quickly. Veronica was working virtually unsupported – there just wasn't a good option for monitoring a meeting at Langley. The nearest gas station was over a mile away and on the opposite side from the main gate of the base. That was where Sarah and Chuck had set up, listening to the briefing in silence apart from the occasional comment on the tactical situation and Sarah's expression of thankfulness for Orion's work on the bug Veronica had carried in with her, which was currently slicing through the CIA's impressive jamming precautions.

The signal that came through was faint, but still clear enough that both of the listeners heard the office door open. Neither spoke a word, but Chuck's eyes widened in alarm.

"After all, this case could be sort of a turning point for inter-agency cooperation – a Fulcrum, if you will."

"Shit," Sarah breathed. She looked over to her companion, who was staring straight ahead with unfocused eyes, seemingly unresponsive to Veronica's obvious hint. "Chuck?"

The trademark thumps of hand-to-hand fighting sounded from the car's speakers, punctuated by a cry of distress from the FBI agent. "Now that we've dispensed with your inevitable futile escape attempt, Agent Mars," said the distinct voice of CIA Director Jodi Reed, "let's talk about what you really know, and who you're working with."

Still unspeaking, Chuck shifted the car into drive and calmly turned down the road to the main gate, picking up speed rapidly along the way. "Chuck, what are you doing?"

"We have to get her out, Sarah." He fishtailed the car into a sharp turn, pulling out of it perfectly.

Sarah recognized the technique from the CIA's driving course and quickly deduced the source of his newfound car-handling ability. She immediately attempted to dissuade him from his rash course of action. "We can't storm Langley, Chuck – especially since your driving flash will fully occupy the Intersect for the entire mission, which would leave me as the only available fighter. Even if we got inside, the Director knows multiple ways out that we'd be lucky to find. We could never cover all of them."

"Sarah, we let her down! I completely missed Reed as a suspect. We have to get her out," Chuck insisted.

"We will, Chuck," Sarah soothed. "We'll get her back. But we need to think."

Chuck's breathing gradually returned to normal. He swung the car into a leisurely U-turn and turned to face his wife. "Okay. Let's think."

* * *

Logan groaned in frustration. The two spies who were heatedly discussing rescue plans across the room had certainly earned his respect during the brief period of his acquaintance with them, but their considerable expertise didn't seem to be getting them anywhere. He'd kept his mouth shut to this point, but if they weren't making any progress without him saying anything…

"Is there another way we can approach this? Something besides a straight rescue?" he offered.

Chuck shook his head. "I don't think so."

Sarah paused. "Maybe." Seeing the eager looks on both men's faces, she immediately temporized. "You're not going to like it, Chuck."

"It has to be better than nothing, which is what we have so far," her husband replied.

Unable to argue with that, Sarah nodded. "The problem now is that we don't know where Veronica is, and any effort to find out is likely to tip off the people holding her. If we knew where she was being kept, it'd be doable."

"Right, but we don't have a way of finding out," Chuck observed.

"Not where they have Veronica, no…"

Chuck blinked. "No, Sarah."

She smiled sadly. "I told you you wouldn't like it."

He shook his head. "Me instead."

"Not a chance," she responded forcefully. "First, you're supposed to be dead. Second, the only way they'd take you is if we told them who you are. And we are NOT doing that."

Chuck's eyes softened, and his voice took on a pleading tone. "We'll find another way. We have to. Sarah…"

Logan once again found himself befuddled by the spy couple's apparent ability to seamlessly read each other's thoughts, and was forced to break into their discussion. "What's the idea?"

Sarah turned toward him. "A trade." She studiously ignored Chuck's wince. "We can't find Veronica – but we can find me, if we're smart."

"So what, you'll just call up the Director of the CIA, tell her who you are, and offer her a swap?"

"Pretty much."

Logan grinned. "You know her extension?"

"What kind of spies would we be if we couldn't find a phone number?" Sarah smiled in response.

"All right, so how do we find you?"

"A tracking device," Sarah explained.

"Won't they expect that?"

"That's why we double up. Let them find the first one."

"Triple," Chuck mumbled.

"What's that, honey?"

His eyes didn't leave the floor. "Triple. You're the great Sarah Walker, they'll expect a double. One in the watch, one sewn into your clothes."

"And the third?"

"Subcutaneous. Dad designed one that'll hold up for about a week. Transmits in very brief bursts – about one second total every half hour. Almost undetectable."

* * *

"Chuck, what's wrong?"

The rest of the day had been spent planning, covering every contingency any of them could think of. Logan had once again been surprisingly helpful, and Chuck had provided his usual supply of excellent ideas. But Sarah knew that something was off, and now that they were in bed for what could easily be their last night together for a while, she intended to find out what it was.

"Nothing, Sarah."

"I know you better than that. You didn't smile at all when you talked about the tracking implant. The only time you don't enjoy talking about gadgets is when something is bothering you." He didn't respond, so Sarah rolled toward him and wrapped an arm around his waist from behind. "Chuck, I'll be all right. They can't do anything too severe if they want me to be functional when I join their side."

He tensed slightly. "When you what?"

She chuckled. "What did you think we were offering them, exactly?"

"That, I guess," he answered, the frown evident in his voice. "It just bothers me, knowing that everyone at the CIA thinks of you like that."

"Like what?"

"Like someone who's turned on her country, betrayed the greater good, whatever. You know."

That drew a smile. "I don't care what they think. The only man whose opinion matters to me is lying next to me right now."

"Hmm," he murmured. "At least that gives me the chance to test out that new knife-fighting protocol we programmed for the Intersect."

"Chuck?" Sarah asked in confusion.

"You did mean that Bryce is back from the dead again, right?"

Sarah laughed and smacked his arm. "See what I meant about the gadgets? Only you could have your wife's ex show up and immediately think about a computer program. Sometimes I suspect you'd like me better if your dad had built me in his secret workshop."

"Hmm, there's a thought… hey!" Chuck rubbed his suddenly pained shoulder, then turned over to face Sarah. "I wouldn't worry about that. Dad's a genius, but he's never built anything that's close to being as perfect as you." He put up a hand to temporarily block Sarah's responding kiss. "I'm just worried I'll lose you, I guess."

She offered him a reassuring smile. "You know I'll be fine. I'm the one who should be worried about you, storming the castle and all."

"That's just it, though. You're counting on me to get you out. I've never done anything remotely like this on my own."

She realized that he was right – she'd accompanied him on each of their rare combat missions. Sarah hadn't even considered the stress Chuck would be experiencing. She remembered the desperation she'd felt her first time going after Chuck without government support, and how close she'd come to breaking down. And that was with a decade of experience in the CIA.

But she knew that the last thing Chuck needed at this point was to have his confidence shaken.

"Chuck, listen to me. There is _nobody_ I would rather have coming in after me. Not Bryce, not Carina, not Cole, not Casey. The reason I'm not worried about this is that I _know_ you won't let me down. You never have, and you never will. Got it?" He nodded. Sarah knew he was still nervous, but she could see a gleam of renewed confidence in his eyes. With his belief in himself reinforced, it was time to take his mind off of the situation. Her hand meandered down his chest, slid across his stomach, and continued southward. "Besides, you know if you don't get me out, I won't be around to do… this, any more." Sarah giggled as Chuck's eyes shot wide open in surprise and leaned in to kiss him.

* * *

"Yes, Gladys, who is it?"

"Not Gladys," an unfamiliar female voice replied.

Director Reed jumped. She'd been assured that this phone could only accept calls forwarded by her secretary, and the secretary always talked to her before transferring the call.

"How did you get this number?" The question didn't technically make sense, because there wasn't actually a number for this phone. But it got the point across.

"More easily than you'd expect, I imagine."

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in a job? Clearly the Science and Technology directorate could use you – they spent weeks making sure this phone couldn't receive calls like this one."

The voice was… amused? Almost proud, it seemed. "It's a tempting offer, but I've found CIA work dissatisfying in the past."

The director's mind ran through the list of known rogue agents, selecting those who were female, capable of something like this, and still alive. Only one name came to mind. "Sarah Walker. To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?"

"You've recently made the acquaintance of a friend of mine, an FBI agent."

A satisfied smile crossed Reed's face, as her guess that Mars wasn't working alone was confirmed. "And?"

"And I was wondering if maybe the three of us could have lunch some time soon. We seem to have a lot to talk about."

"I suspect that Agent Mars would rather get back to her family than waste time talking shop. But I'd be happy to meet with you in the meantime," Reed proposed.

"Oh, I suppose we could still find one or two things to discuss," the rogue agent replied dryly.

"Excellent. How about dinner, tomorrow at 8?"

"And Agent Mars? It would be reassuring if you could tell me where she'll be dropped off."

"How does Economy Parking at Richmond International Airport sound? I don't expect her to have any trouble getting home from there."

"That should do nicely." Reed noted that the other woman was smart enough to realize that it would be her responsibility to ensure Mars's safety after the swap, and thus did not insist that the FBI agent not be harmed. But then, Sarah Walker always had known how the game was played. It was going to be a pleasure to match wits with one of the best.

The CIA director gave her rival the proper directions to the next day's meeting point before closing her end of the conversation by saying, "I look forward to meeting you tomorrow, Agent Walker."

"Likewise."

Both parties hung up with the same thought in mind: _Jackpot._

* * *

Sarah started slightly at the ring of the pay phone by the bench where she'd been instructed to wait. "Hello?"

"Good evening, Sarah. Agent Mars will be delivered shortly. Once you've verified her safety, please walk into the Arby's across the street."

"What makes you think I have some way to check on Agent Mars?"

The voice on the other end of the phone laughed. "Please, Agent Walker. There's no need to be coy. We're all professionals here, and we all know how this works."

She hung up. "Get that, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I got it," Chuck's voice responded through the tiny two-way audio transmitter in her ear. "And… she's here."

"Great," Sarah smiled. "You want me to wait until you have her?"

"No, I think we should be all right. Everything good on your end?"

"As good as it can be," she confirmed. "Chuck?"

"Yeah, Sarah?"

"Love you."

"I love you too."

"See you soon."

"I hope so." Sarah could hear the strain in his voice.

"I know so," she replied with conviction. Hearing no response, she removed the radio, dropped it on the sidewalk, and crushed it.

* * *

"I know so." Chuck wiped a small tear from his cheek, removed his earbud, and turned his attentions back to the wrist computer. Having verified Veronica's arrival in Economy Lot A by way of the airport's security feeds, he stood from his seat in the baggage claim area of the airport and boarded the proper shuttle. As the bulky transport made its way toward the parking lot, Chuck thought over his exit plan once more. Sarah's voice drifted into his mind.

_There's a good chance that whoever drops her off will want to keep an eye on you – they may even consider attacking right away. The most likely point for them to pick you up is the entrance or exit for whichever lot they leave her in._

Chuck had placed a rental car in each of the three economy lots hours earlier and waited at the airport itself for Veronica's arrival. Entry to the requisite lot would be accomplished easily, thanks to the shuttle. Exiting without drawing attention from either the watchers or any innocent bystanders would be a bit trickier.

"Honey!" he cried as he dismounted from the shuttle, carrying an overnight bag. "It's so great to see you!"

The diminutive FBI agent caught on quickly. "You too, sweetie. I missed you so much, I just had to meet you here."

"How were my parents? They didn't torture you too much, did they?"

Veronica picked up the double meaning and answered in kind. "No more than the usual questions – you know, when we're getting married, what my plans are for the future. I'm fine." She wrapped him in a loose hug and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "What's the deal?"

"You're sprung, sweetheart. Isn't that what matters?" he breathed into her ear as he led her toward a car. She studied him carefully as they drove toward the gate.

"Chuck? This is the shuttles only exit."

"What makes you think that?"

"The sign that says 'Shuttles only.'"

He smiled as he pressed a few buttons on the wrist computer and the gate opened. "They don't really mean that. What they're really saying is 'Shuttles only, unless you stole the frequency pattern needed to open the gate as you rode into the airport earlier today.'"

"I'm sure."

"Hey, would you write all that out on that little sign, when the difference doesn't even matter to anyone who's not a wizard with electronics?"

"Probably not," Veronica admitted with a chuckle. She watched as his smile slowly faded. "Chuck. Where's Sarah?"

He stared straight ahead. "You and Logan, you should get back to California. Reed and her people might still go after you, depending on… anyway, Logan knows how to avoid people. If you let him, he'll take care of you. And I'll do my best to keep an eye on you whenever possible."

"Chuck," she said insistently.

He sighed. "She traded herself for you."

"WHAT!"

Chuck cringed. "Not my idea."

"That's not what I meant! You were going to let her do that, and keep me from helping you get her back?"

The car swerved slightly as Chuck's arm absorbed a punch from his passenger. "Huh? Veronica, I don't expect you to…"

"Well I expect me to," she cut him off angrily. "You don't think having a second Intersect along might help?"

"Of course it would help. It's just… we let you down, not catching Reed as a possible suspect. I don't want to put you in danger again."

The FBI agent snorted disdainfully. "Please. I'm the one who proposed the very domestic highschool friendship motive for a murder we already knew was being covered up in decidedly non-domestic fashion. And I'm the one who completely missed the fact that Reed and Beckman were the two candidates to be named DNI – which is the motive, by the way. A trained FBI investigator makes two enormous mistakes like that, she deserves whatever happens to her."

"I don't want you to feel obligated…" Chuck tried one more time to dissuade her.

"Tough crap. You try to go alone, I'll follow you. Might work better if we actually plan for two people."

Chuck sighed, but a hesitant smile crossed his face. "Fine. Let's get our rescue on."

* * *

Sarah walked into the restaurant and was escorted to a table by a pair of formidably large men. She sat down across from the CIA director.

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering for you. Ham and Swiss all right?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I'm not especially hungry at the moment." The two women sat in silence that remained unbroken until the Director's phone buzzed. She answered and wordlessly listened to the caller's report.

"Interesting," she said after hanging up. "Apparently Agent Mars was met by someone coming from the terminal and spirited out of the lot without using the exit."

Sarah kept her expression carefully neutral. "She's very resourceful."

"I suspect she's not the only one," replied Reed, sliding out of the booth. "Anyway, I'm done here if you are. Shall we?"

Sarah was directed toward a nondescript van, allowing herself a small grin as she remembered Casey's occasional complaints about the fondness villains held for this type of vehicle. Once she was inside, her hands were cuffed, and she patiently waited for the inevitable scan for tracking devices.

It never happened. The van pulled out of the lot and ambled down the road, and the two guards sat just far enough from Sarah that she couldn't reach them with a kick before they'd be able to draw their guns. Everything was being done professionally, except for the lack of a scan.

With a muffled gasp, Sarah realized that it was intentional. They knew someone skilled had picked up Veronica from the airport, and they were expecting that person to come after her.

Chuck was walking into a trap.


	10. Anticipation

A/N: We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal, and that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights. Unfortunately, these rights do not include owning Chuck or Veronica Mars. So I still don't.

* * *

Chapter 10: Anticipation

The car carrying the pair of Intersects had barely pulled into the hotel parking lot when Logan burst out of the room and sprinted toward the vehicle. "Veronica?"

She emerged from the passenger seat and smiled at him. "I'm fine, Logan."

He immediately captured her in a powerful hug. "Thank God."

She leaned up for a quick peck on the cheek, which Logan found quite disappointing, and followed Chuck into the room. The curly-headed nerd had his laptop open and the tracking program running almost as soon as he'd sat down.

"They're on the move."

Veronica nodded. "What do we need?"

Chuck smiled despite himself. "Guns. Lots of guns."

"Okay, Keanu," she replied with a laugh. "What else?"

"Body armor, fatigues, communications gear, and surveillance stuff. Take maybe an hour to put everything together. That enough for you?" he inquired.

"Should be. We need a surveillance van, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can get one of those," she said confidently. "The local police in the area have been very accommodating during this case."

"Guys?" Logan asked. "What's going on?"

"We're going after Sarah," Veronica replied.

Logan turned quickly to Chuck. "The hell she is!"

"Not my idea," Chuck said apologetically. "She insisted."

Logan knew that Veronica's stubbornness would not be easily overcome in this situation. So he shifted tactics. "Fine. I'm going with you."

"The hell you are!" Veronica objected.

Chuck smiled. "I could swear there's an echo in here." He turned to Logan and studied him briefly. "Okay."

"What?" Veronica looked ready to explode.

"Well, we could use someone to run the surveillance out in the van."

"True," she confessed.

"Plus, I don't expect him to take no for an answer. I'm guessing Mr. Echolls usually gets what he wants."

"He's been known to." Logan smiled at Veronica's grudging admission.

"Logan, you can come along. I'll show you how to run the monitoring programs, and you let us know where the guards are and where they're going. But you have to promise to stay…" Chuck paused and grinned hugely, "… out of the way."

* * *

"Director? He's here."

The voice from the radio went silent, and Jodi Reed turned to Sarah Walker with an unfriendly smile. "Why Agent Walker, did you try to double-cross us and have someone break you out?" She shook her head in mock disappointment. "That was stupid, Sarah. You of all people should have known that the best way to secure the cooperation of an unwilling agent is to threaten harm to someone they care about. And here it looks like you've gone and handed us just such a person." With a few keystrokes, she brought up the exterior security feed for the lonely three-story office building and zoomed in on the driver of the van that had just arrived in the parking lot. Sarah swore mentally at the conspicuous nature of Chuck's arrival.

"He's cute," Reed commented casually as she studied the screen. "It seems like a shame to mark up a face like that. But then, maybe we can think of a more pleasant way to welcome our friend here. I may not have your record-setting seduction portfolio, but I'm not completely without ability in that area. I'll bet he has a nice smile," she said contemplatively as she turned to face Sarah once more. "How long do you think it'll take me to rock his world so hard that it's plastered permanently across his face?"

Sarah bit painfully down on the inside of her lower lip to keep herself from rising to the obvious bait. But she couldn't avoid the mental assault of the image of the treacherous CIA Director stripped down to lingerie and straddling Chuck's lap, and she was forced to close her eyes to hold back the tears it produced. Reed saw that her guess as to the nature of the intruder's relationship with Walker had been correct, and chuckled evilly at her victory. "Of course, there's always the strong possibility that this will end the same way as most daring, valiant, and hopelessly outmanned rescue attempts – a pine box," she mused. "Personally, I'm pretty excited to see how it turns out." She angled the security monitor so Sarah could see it. "Let's watch."

* * *

Chuck slid to the back of the van and typed furiously on Orion's laptop. He noted with a smile that the building was monitored by several heat sensors and compiled their combined feed. Ten minutes later, he had mapped the layout of the bottom two floors of the building, along with a rough patrol pattern for the dozen guards. The third floor was deserted apart from two stationary people, and would have to be navigated blind. That done, he prepared the code that would manipulate the surveillance feeds.

"All right, that should suppress the signal from the heat sensors in the area just to the left of the door, which is also a blind spot for the cameras…" He turned to Logan. "The looping code should be ready to execute. When I give you the signal, hit Enter once, wait ten seconds, and hit it again." Opening the sliding door, he stepped from the van. "And Logan? Stay in the car." He smiled widely and muttered, "I've always wanted to say that."

* * *

"Ahh, here he comes now," Director Reed commented. "Crossing the parking lot in decidedly un-stealthy fashion. I don't expect our electronic door lock to give him much trouble… through already, I see. Very impressive."

"You have no idea," Sarah whispered nervously.

"Look at that – the first floor guards have noticed him. That was quick. I see he's coming into a relatively large facility with only handguns – not a great operational choice, but he's taken down a pair of guards already. And he's up the first flight of stairs."

Sarah screwed her eyes tightly shut, trying in vain to ignore the Director's flat-toned monologue.

"Interesting. He's taken a bit of a wrong turn – there's nothing worth seeing down that hallway. He'll be quite pinned down now."

Chuck's voice floated in faintly over the surveillance feed. "Damn it! Shouldn't have gone that way."

Sarah cracked one eye open and watched helplessly as the remaining eight guards rapidly cut off Chuck's options for escape. He held them off valiantly, but was thoroughly trapped – and the guards were starting to become bolder in their attempts to turn the corner.

"I don't expect it'll be long now," Reed narrated soullessly. "At most, it'll take until he runs out of ammo. At that point, I hope for his sake –"

Suddenly, the door to the room was flung open. The Director turned swiftly to assess the surprise arrival, and almost immediately fell to the floor with a tranq dart in her neck. Special Agent Veronica Mars stormed into the room, quickly finding the key to Sarah's cuffs in the unconscious woman's pocket. Freeing Sarah, she then applied the restraints to Director Reed, chaining her to the desk.

"How…"

Veronica quickly cut off the question. "Explanation later." She handed Sarah the pistol that had been packed for her. "Chuck now."

Sarah nodded decisively and the two blondes quickly set off for the stairs. Their progress was rudely interrupted by a bit of unexpected resistance, as a guard stepped briefly into the stairwell and fired up at them. Veronica successfully ducked out of the way, but Sarah's left arm was grazed by one of the bullets. Cursing, she returned fire, sending the man diving for cover.

"We don't have time for this," she grunted, continuing down the stairs. Her advance toward the door was stopped again as several rounds thumped into the opposite wall. As she unwillingly prepared for an extended firefight, Sarah heard the distinctive bark of a shotgun. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sound – and then nearly popped out of her skull as the head of Logan Echolls poked through the door. He waved furiously for them to follow him.

Veronica found her voice first. "Logan! What are you doing in here?"

"I figured it was either follow instructions and let these nice folks finish off Sarah's husband, or come inside and give him a fair chance," he replied neutrally. He looked to Sarah for support, but she was already sprinting down the hall. By the time they caught up to her, she'd gunned down four guards from behind and had the remaining three scrambling for cover. Veronica contributed a few rounds of suppressive fire as well, stopping when she saw a pistol pointing around the far corner of the wall. No longer pinned down, Chuck had quickly moved into position and dispatched two of the remaining guards into unconsciousness with tranqs while Sarah shot the third in the shoulder, then clocked him with the butt of her gun.

And just like that, it was over. The tension completely drained from the room, leaving four heavily breathing people looking blankly at each other. Chuck stirred first, walking slowly down the hall and drawing Sarah to him for a slow, passionate kiss. Finally coming up for air, he looked downward and saw blood. "You're hurt."

"Just a scratch. I've had worse."

"That's comforting," he replied with a roll of his eyes. Tearing off a strip of his shirt, Chuck quickly fashioned an impromptu bandage. Once that was in place, he looked toward Logan and Veronica, who were staring each other down in silence. "Weren't you supposed to stay in the car?"

Sarah was overtaken by a sudden fit of giggles, leaving the other couple confused. "Chuck _never_ stayed in the car," she clarified. "It's nice to hear him having to try to get someone else to do it for once."

"On the other hand," Chuck countered, "I'm still willing to do this." He strode over to Logan and offered him a strong handshake. "Thanks for the help. Now don't do it again."

Sarah sighed, pulling Chuck back into a hug and clinging to him as if to reassure herself that he was actually there. "I was so worried, Chuck. They knew you were coming… and then they trapped you."

He grinned. "Of course they did. All part of the plan."

"You wanted them to know you were coming?"

"Of course not – but they did whether I wanted them to or not, so it made sense to take advantage of that. Since they knew I was coming, they stopped looking for anything else once they saw me," he explained.

"But how did you know?"

"The trackers. They left all three of them. You don't get to be head of the CIA by not knowing basic spycraft, so I figured they wanted me to find you." Seeing her surprised look, his smile grew bigger. "Come on. I have at least a little more tactical savvy than Admiral Ackbar."

She laughed at that. "So you got out of the van…"

"Veronica got out at the same time and hid behind me on the way to the building. I came in and drew the guards while she hid just inside the doorway. Once I had their attention, I signaled Logan to loop the video and IR footage and Veronica took off up the stairs."

"And this plan required you to be attacked by eight people why, exactly?" Sarah demanded.

"Uhh, we figured it'd be a little tougher for me to hide behind Veronica than the other way around?" Chuck said, attempting to placate her with a sheepish smile.

"Not what I meant, Chuck."

"Yeah, I know." He took a deep breath. "Sarah, you're just going to have to get used to the fact that I will _gladly_ risk my life to save yours, just like you have for me countless times. And before you ask, yes, it's hard for me to watch you do that. But I haven't said anything, because I know you'll do it anyway – at first because it was your job, and now because you love me. So, my recommendation is that you accept it, worry your adorable ass off, and then once you've pulled me out of the fire for the thousandth time, do _this_." He finished the speech with another thorough kiss, which was punctuated with a light smack to the adorable region.

Sarah took a moment to catch her breath once Chuck finally pulled back from their embrace. Shaking her head briefly to clear her mind, she managed to say, "Well, I have a rogue CIA director to deal with upstairs."

Chuck looked over to the other male member of the team. "Logan, would you mind watching the door while she's up there?" Logan responded with a confused look, but followed Sarah up the stairs.

* * *

Director Reed groaned softly as she awoke from her tranquilized slumber. "My head hurts."

"You're lucky that's all that hurts," replied an unnaturally cheery voice. Reed jerked her head up to see who it was, immediately regretting it as another spasm of pain clouded her senses.

"Agent Walker," she said quietly.

"It seems the tables have turned, Director. Now it is you who are in my clutches!" the blonde agent declared with a ridiculous smile. Seeing the Director's confused look, she added, "Sorry, too many sci-fi villains in my recent movie experience. At least I held back the maniacal laugh."

Reed found that less than comforting. "What are you going to do with me?"

Sarah drew her pistol and pulled the slide back menacingly. After pausing for emphasis, she said, "I have absolutely no idea."

The Director gaped silently.

"I mean, think about it. I can't exactly call the cops – I'm a rogue agent, and you're the head of the CIA. I don't really want to kill you… well, part of me does, but my practical side is shouting it down. And that will probably stay true as long as you behave," she said pointedly. "On the other hand… I'm already on the run, so not much would change there. And I really don't like you. So, with that in mind, let's hear what you have to say about General Beckman's murder specifically, and your extracurricular activities in general."

Reed swallowed nervously, and started talking.

* * *

"All right, Bartowski, spill." Chuck looked up from securing the last of the incapacitated guards and laughed, surprising Veronica. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he replied absently.

"Tell me what was funny, or I won't listen to the reason you sent Logan upstairs after Sarah," she threatened.

"Fine, but the talk comes first." Seeing her nod, he pressed forward. "You know, the Intersect didn't originally come with the Superspy 2.0 software."

"Okay…"

"For the first year and a half I spent with this thing in my head, I was practically helpless in dangerous situations. It pretty much sucked. But I kept inserting myself into them, much to Sarah's chagrin."

Veronica remained silent, waiting for the punch line.

"Do you know why I let Logan come along on this?"

"To… run the looping program from the van, like you said."

Chuck shook his head. "That's just the reason I used to convince you," he confessed. "It would have been relatively easy for one of us to do that remotely. The real reason I asked him to come is that I saw the same look on his face that I'd had on my own for 18 months. He was terrified, he knew he was in over his head, and he was willing to take the risks that come with that if it meant he'd have even the slightest chance of preventing something from happening to you."

Unsure of how to respond, Veronica said nothing.

"Anyway, what I laughed at earlier… when you called me Bartowski, you sounded exactly like a tiny blonde Casey." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "Casey…"

He walked off toward the stairs. It took Veronica a moment to notice that he'd also managed to give her time to think.

* * *

"One more question, just to satisfy my own curiosity. Which of the guards was it?"

Reed snorted derisively. "Both of them. You think we'd trust something this important to one guy?"

"Fair enough," Sarah conceded. "Which one pulled the trigger?"

The CIA Director shrugged. "No clue. Does it really matter?"

Sarah was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Chuck asking for an update, which she readily provided. "She's working with the Ring, which explains a lot. She and Sax are the two leading figures in their US operations. Under them, there are four of what might be called regional offices. I've got information on all of those, enough that we can start investigating them for ourselves."

"US operations?" Chuck queried.

"They're a worldwide group, and she doesn't think any of the inner circle are Americans," Sarah explained.

Chuck grimaced. "She doesn't _think_ they're Americans?"

"She doesn't know – she's never seen their faces."

"I find it a little tough to believe that the Director of the CIA couldn't find a way to manage that," he replied with a dubious raise of his eyebrows.

"Chuck, with some people, it's not really a great idea to provoke them even if you can."

"Ahh," he nodded knowingly. "So it's an 'I could tell you but I'd have to kill you' situation."

"Exactly," Sarah replied with a smile. "So, was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Right, yeah. I was thinking, maybe it would help to have someone else on the inside working with us on this, at least indirectly. And since Veronica already knows Casey, and Casey already knows I'm alive, and we're more confident in Casey being clean than anyone else – or at least I am – I thought it might be a good idea for Veronica to bring him into the loop at some point in the very near future."

"That would be helpful," Sarah agreed. "I mean, Veronica's done a great job so far, but we could really use an experienced agent with some upper-level access on this."

"Why don't you guys work out the specifics on that?" Chuck suggested. "I think between us, Logan and I can keep a restrained prisoner inside this room. Do you want me to pick up the interrogation?"

Sarah's face shifted into a sour look. "I'd prefer that your interaction with this particular brunette be limited to grainy views on security monitors. Plus," she added to deflect his attention from her brief spasm of jealousy, "I think I've got everything we need to get our operations started." With that, she headed down the stairs.

* * *

"Veronica?" Sarah looked around the corner, finding the FBI agent settled comfortably on the floor and staring into the distance with unfocused eyes.

"Hey, Sarah."

"Hey, Chuck and I were talking about what we should do next, and I think we could use Casey's help. Could you get him a message for us?" Sarah requested.

"Sure, no problem. I'll just call him in for a follow-up interrogation." Sarah nodded her thanks and turned to leave. Veronica's voice stopped her. "Hey, Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

Veronica hesitated before continuing. "You're pretty much an epic badass, right?"

"Uhh… I guess," the rogue agent replied with a grin.

"How do you… I mean, Chuck is so…"

"How do I deal with Chuck being unnecessarily protective of me?" Sarah guessed helpfully.

"Yes," Veronica replied gratefully.

"Not very well, at first," Sarah admitted. "It was infuriating, especially because it was _my_ job to protect _him_. It took me way too long to figure out that he wasn't doing it because he thought I couldn't look out for myself – it was just that he wanted to do it anyway, and was going to, no matter what I told him. It's a lot easier once you learn that there's really nothing you can do to change his mind. Accept his actions for what they are, and you'll fight with him a lot less. Of course, it's also a lot easier if you do the same thing for him."

Veronica nodded absently. "Thanks."

"And besides," Sarah added with an wicked grin, "there are more effective ways than yelling to convince a man to keep himself out of danger." She laughed as the other woman blushed.

* * *

"Colonel Casey. Nice to see you again." The blonde FBI agent offered the NSA man a handshake as he entered the interrogation room.

"Why am I here, Agent Mars?" Casey asked gruffly.

"I just wanted to see if you'd rethought your position on your Los Angeles assignment. Anything you can give me would be enormously helpful to the investigation."

"Sorry, miss. Unless you've somehow found Walker and convinced her to talk, I'm afraid my lips remain sealed."

Veronica pouted prettily. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Can I go?"

"Yes. But don't think we aren't watching you."

Casey rolled his eyes. "And don't think I can't avoid the FBI's pathetic tailing efforts whenever I damn well please." The handshake that preceded his departure was noticeably more strained than the one they'd shared as he entered.

* * *

It was the second-to-last day of the regular season, and the stands at Camden Yards were barely half-filled. Since the Orioles were 23 games out of the playoffs, that was no surprise. Considering the fact that the home team was already behind by five runs in the fourth inning, Casey mused that the empty half of the stadium wasn't missing much.

He stood at the location designated in the note the FBI agent had passed him – Boog's Barbecue, end of the third – and consumed his pulled pork sandwich as tidily as could be managed. He wasn't sure who to expect, but he knew that the other person would be making the approach, and since the meeting was in a public place, it was unlikely that he was in any danger.

The familiar voice startled him enough that the remaining half of his sandwich landed unceremoniously on the ground.

"Hello, John."


	11. Prestidigitation

A/N: Enough of my slacking ways! Time for another update. We're almost done here.

No score and two years ago, Josh Schwartz and Chris Fedak brought forth on this continent a great television show, conceived in awesomeness, and dedicated to the proposition that I don't own it. (Or Veronica Mars.)

* * *

Chapter 11: Prestidigitation

Casey stared mournfully at the remains of his sandwich, cursing the droplets of barbecue sauce that had spattered on the cuffs of his pants. He hadn't heard that voice in over a year. Clearly, it had lost none of its ability to cause him trouble. "That was perfectly good food," he grumped.

"At least it wasn't a car, John," the voice replied with a laugh.

"I don't think you've ever called me John before," Casey said quietly, resisting the urge to spin abruptly around.

"Yeah, well, I've been doing a lot of new things lately. The afterlife is apparently pretty crazy."

"You know you've completely destroyed any semblance of the plausible deniability you left me with," the NSA agent protested.

"It's not like you had much to begin with," the person behind him pointed out.

Casey finally turned, coming face to face with his former asset. He completely failed to suppress a smile.

"Good to see you again too, big guy," Chuck grinned in response.

"So what the hell are you doing here? I imagine it's pretty good, if Walker's letting you break cover."

"Oh, she didn't want me to come," Chuck answered smugly. "But I was tired of being cooped up all the time. Fortunately, I specialize in the persuasion of Sarah Walker."

Casey grimaced. "Could you just answer the question without making me wish I could rub a magnet over my mental hard drive?"

Chuck laughed. "You spent way too much time at the Buy More, Casey." The larger man glowered at him, bringing him abruptly back to the point. "Right, the question. Beckman." He began walking away from the sandwich vendor, motioning for the NSA agent to follow.

"Now?" Casey spluttered as Chuck led him toward the stadium exit. "This couldn't have waited until the end of the game? I paid good money for this ticket."

* * *

"Okay. So both guards on the night shift conspired to kill Beckman, in order to make the Director of the CIA the only candidate to be named DNI. The Director of the FBI has covered up the crime by misdirecting the investigation. And all of this was done at the behest of the Ring, a shadow organization whose existence has never actually been proven," Casey summarized.

"Right," Sarah declared. "Although we have seen the Ring a few times, if you'll recall."

"Sure," Casey continued. "And you two, working with Agent Mars and her old boyfriend, figured all of this out and captured the rogue CIA director and a bunch of her goons."

"Yes," Sarah replied. "You have successfully repeated everything we have said back to us. Now can we move on to the part of the program in which you contribute an original thought?"

"I get all that," Casey said, ignoring the sarcasm. "What I don't understand is why you feel the need to tell _me_ all this."

"Here I thought you liked to be kept in the loop, Casey. Sure you wouldn't have felt like the fat kid again if we'd left you out?" Chuck teased.

Casey merely glared in response, so Sarah tried a serious answer. "Look, we need someone on the inside, and frankly, we don't trust anyone but you. We're still pretty sure that at least one high-ranking NSA official has Ring ties, because someone had to hire those guards, or recruit them, or assign them that shift. And with the directors involved, the CIA and FBI are anyone's guess at this point."

"Well and good, as far as it goes. But I don't have enough authority to actually do anything for you," Casey pointed out.

"Actually," Sarah countered, "for what I have in mind, I think you've got just the right amount."

"This is something the two of you can take care of, right?" Chuck asked.

"What's the matter, Bartowski? Gone too soft to work a mission in the year since you split?" Casey taunted.

"Not exactly," Sarah responded. "It's more that he's able to run his own operations now." She turned toward her husband. "We've got this one, sweetie. Go work your magic."

Casey blinked in surprise. "You're working something else at the same time as the murder of one of the highest-ranking intelligence officials in the country? What could possibly be that important?"

Chuck grinned. "Setting off a trap."

* * *

Frank White sighed drowsily. When he'd been recruited by a top secret cabal of spies, he'd expected something more stimulating than guard duty in a warehouse full of computer equipment. It had been the dullest assignment imaginable – the only excitement had come when that prowler had broken in a few days back. He mused wearily that no matter where you went in the world of intelligence, bureaucracy was inescapable.

Glancing at the security monitors, he perked up slightly. There was a young blonde woman walking stealthily into the building – damn good looking one, too. Maybe today would be a bit more interesting.

White dialed the contact number he'd been given when he started the job. "Sir? We've got someone."

"Excellent. Secure him as quickly as you can. We'll send the technician right away."

"Actually, sir, it's a woman. Frankly, I wouldn't mind…"

"Don't even think about it," the voice on the other end responded harshly. "This is a very delicate procedure. The slightest mental trauma to the subject could destroy everything. She is to be treated with the utmost delicacy. If anything, and I mean _anything_, happens to her, it'll be your ass."

"Of course, sir."

Chuck terminated the connection from the other end, his face slightly green. "Jesus. Sometimes I forget how unpleasant these people can be." Seeing Logan's nervous look, he quickly reassured the other man. "She'll be fine. She can take care of herself, you know."

"Remind me how you did that again?" Logan requested.

"I'm intercepting all outgoing calls from any phone in the building. Which wouldn't be hugely tricky if they weren't using cell phones… but still isn't too bad," Chuck replied.

"So what's the plan, exactly? You replace their file with your own? Hasn't she already had that… upload?"

"Different file this time," Chuck clarified.

"What's different about it?"

"We're… overwriting the first one, I guess you'd say."

Logan started. "The whole thing? Couldn't you leave some of the Kung Fu magic or something?"

"It would be a lot easier if we could. We've never found a way to do a partial removal," the nerd admitted.

Logan eyed Chuck carefully. "Doesn't that leave her kind of vulnerable?"

"Kind of," came the distracted reply.

* * *

"FBI, Director's office."

"I need to speak with the Director right away, please. I have information about a case that I can only give to him."

"Sir, if you will please report your information through the proper channels, I'm sure the Director will see it as soon as it requires his attention."

The man on the other end of the phone practically growled. "Listen to me, _ma'am_. I know who killed General Beckman. I can't go through proper channels, because the proper channels are compromised. The only person who can be trusted with this information is the Director himself."

The secretary groaned. Conspiracy nuts were such a pain in the ass. "Sir, I'm afraid I can't just transfer you to the Director without getting more information than that. Can you tell me who you are?"

"I can tell you that the security footage in Beckman's office was looped. That fact wasn't leaked to the press."

That was true, which at least made the caller a well-informed nutjob. She knew the Director likely wouldn't appreciate having to take this one, but there was also the chance that a little investigation could uncover a leak in the Bureau's highest-priority case, which was probably worth the risk of a little yelling from her boss.

"Very well, sir." She forwarded the call.

"Director Sax."

"Hello, Director. This is Colonel John Casey of the NSA."

* * *

Veronica awoke with a start. She found herself in a locked room with her hands cuffed behind her, but she was not otherwise restrained, and she remained fully clothed. She took that to mean that Chuck had torn the guards a new one – she hadn't seen them for long before being tranquilized, but they hadn't struck her as the most pure-hearted bunch.

The FBI agent closed her eyes and did her best to sleep. Chuck had estimated a 16-hour expected delay between the request and the technician's arrival. Even if the guards managed to keep their hands to themselves, it was still going to be a long wait.

* * *

Director Reed was startled as Sarah burst into the third-floor office where she'd been restrained for the last two days. "Walker?"

The blonde agent paced furiously and muttered to herself, ignoring the other woman.

"Walker? What the hell's going on?"

Sarah whirled toward her inquisitor. "You and your damned insistence on isolation for this place… My old partner is on his way here. He's been looking for me ever since I went rogue. If he finds me, he'll kill me and anyone else who he even suspects of working with me. And as of right now, he's driving up the only road I could use to escape."

"And what exactly does that have to do with me?" Reed asked smugly.

"Nothing, unless I can sell him on the idea that we're working together. Which shouldn't take much more than unlocking your cuffs as soon as he gets here," came the sharp reply. "Look, neither one of us can handle him one-on-one. But if we work together, we may be able to ambush him. As much as it nauseates me, I'm willing to do that if you are."

John Casey was rumored to be the best assassin the NSA had, and Walker was clearly terrified of him. If the woman was willing to let her go, Reed wasn't inclined to complain. Once she was freed, it would open up a very large set of possibilities for escape. "Do I get a gun?"

"Not until he gets here."

That was a yes.

* * *

Frank White met the computer tech and his armed escort at the door. "Welcome, gentlemen."

The tech brushed past him without a second glance. His companion shrugged apologetically. "He's in a hurry."

White pursued the impatient man upstairs, reaching the computer room just as a flash drive was inserted into one of the machines. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Uploading the new files," the nerd replied calmly.

"We already have the files," White protested.

"That's why these are called the _new_ files."

"I didn't hear anything about new files." If the geek wanted to be unfriendly, White could be unfriendly.

"Right, I guess they forgot to tell you. Oh, or maybe they decided that sending someone to give a brief on the intricacies of image encoding to a bunch of guys with GEDs would be an enormous waste of time," the man replied irritably. "Now, are you going to keep screwing around, or are you going to collect our test subject?"

White's hand drifted idly to his sidearm. But tempting though the idea of shooting the arrogant jackass might be, it wouldn't be worth the dressing down he'd get from his superiors for delaying the project. The guard stalked angrily from the room to collect the blonde.

* * *

"Thank you for meeting me here, Director."

Sax accepted Casey's handshake. "Well, Colonel, you said you'd lead me to General Beckman's killer."

"Killers," Casey corrected. "One of them is a rogue CIA agent. I've been unable to identify the other, but I think she's also involved with the Agency."

"So what's the plan?"

"I've located their safe house. We'll approach it from the rear, circle around the outside, then sweep the interior."

Sax thought that over. "I see. To keep them from waiting outside, then catching us from behind once we're in the building."

Casey nodded. "Exactly. You sure you're up for this, Director?"

Sax didn't realize it, but he was being given a final opportunity to establish his innocence. Casey had remained intentionally vague about any actual evidence that the crime had occurred in the way he claimed. A legitimate investigator would demand to see some semblance of proof before setting out to make an arrest. On the other hand, someone who was looking to cover up the crime would grasp at any chance to frame another culprit.

The FBI director smirked unpleasantly. "Absolutely."

* * *

Logan watched nervously as Veronica was strapped into the chair in the clean white room. He sourly noted that the Ring facility featured none of the medical precautions he'd seen in Utah. He focused on the security monitor so intently that he failed to notice Chuck walking toward him until the "computer tech" had already brushed past and whispered "Don't worry" in his ear.

Two of the four guards entered the control room, carefully taking positions more than an arm's length away from Logan and Chuck. The one who'd greeted them at the door spoke up: "She's ready."

Chuck nodded, and with a few quick keystrokes, the Intersect removal program began to execute. He studiously avoided looking at the screen while it ran, at least until the system alarms began to sound.

"Aw, what the hell?" he grumped. "This is not good."

Both guards quickly drew their guns, each covering one man. "What's not good?" the leader queried tersely.

"There's a system overload… hang on now, I should be able to fix it…"

"I would work quickly," the gunman advised.

"Hey, fellas, there's no need for the guns, now. Just minor technical difficulties, I'm sure," Logan placated frantically.

"You'd better hope that's all it is. We're under orders to address any threats to these systems with lethal force."

Logan twitched nervously as he decided there was no chance he could draw his weapon and take out both of his opponents before either of them had a chance to fire. Glancing over at the security monitor, he saw that Veronica lay limply in her chair. He hated to be pessimistic, but this situation's glass struck him as distinctly half empty, and seemed to be leaking.

* * *

Director Reed rubbed her wrists subconsciously for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. She still had a hard time believing that Walker had not only cut her loose, but armed her. Hefting the gun that she recognized as the rogue agent's personal favorite, she silently took a position against the wall on the left side of the building, facing the rear. The intruder had parked behind the building, and would have to come around in order to enter.

It had been a very long time since Reed had been in a life-or-death situation in the field. She forced her breathing to steady, and listened carefully for any sign of an approaching target. Nothing presented itself to her senses for what seemed like ages. Then, finally, came the faint crunching sound of careful footsteps.

They were growing closer. Reed sucked in a last nervous breath just before a head poked around the corner of the building. She waited patiently for a better shot, and was rewarded when the man stepped fully into view. Reed squeezed off three rounds in quick succession – two to the chest, one to the head. As the man's body slid to the ground, she reflected proudly on her perfectly-remembered technique.

Her self-satisfied reverie was rudely interrupted by someone tackling her from behind. As her arms were pinned together, she struggled to lift her face from the grass. That gave her a mostly obstructed view of Sarah Walker retrieving a pair of handcuffs from a corpse and tossing them in her direction. After the restraints had been applied to her wrists, Reed was flipped over and allowed to see the face of her assailant: Colonel John Casey.

"Wait," she stammered. "If you're behind me, then who did I just kill?"

"That depends on who you ask," Walker responded. "If you ask your bosses in the Ring, you just killed the co-coordinator of American operations, with the help of an agent who's been a target of theirs for nearly two years. On the other hand, if you ask the US Government, you just conspired with a rogue operative to kill the Director of the FBI." A grim smile flitted across her features. "Regardless of who you ask, I expect you'll find their response to be exceptionally ill-tempered."

* * *

The apparently hopeless situation in the control room was altered rather drastically by a tiny blonde-haired blur that rolled in and fired two quick, deadly-accurate shots. Before Logan could even begin to react to the event, Chuck was already high-fiving Veronica. He stared in open-mouthed shock as they conversed.

"The other guards?"

"Handled. The computers?"

"Fried beyond repair. All that's left to do is toss a grenade or three into the room itself, and it'll take more work to fix this facility than it would just to build a new one."

Logan finally managed to interrupt. "Where did you come from? You're still…"

"Lying in the chair?" Chuck asked. "You've seen me loop surveillance footage how many times now?"

"And the programming? I thought you removed it."

"I did," Chuck responded. "Of course, I then immediately re-uploaded a few choice parts. At the very least, it'll leave Veronica with some valuable skills. At best? There's a chance that giving her brain fewer options will make it more efficient in deploying them. She may even be able to use more than one at a time. Let's see… I put back some good hand-to-hand stuff, and everything we had dealing with handguns, which of course you just saw." He grinned slightly. "When things get tense, Agent Mars here might just turn into a veritable River Tam."

Veronica smiled. "No power in the 'verse can stop me."

Chuck laughed. "Also, she asked to keep everything dealing with criminal investigation, even though she doesn't need a ton of help in that area. Oh, and some seduction training, for personal use."

Veronica stared Logan down at that, and he surprised himself by blushing.

* * *

"Yes sir, we found them… Yes, it looks like Walker was here, but she was gone before I arrived. I'd say she and Reed were planning on ditching their grunts – I found half a dozen of them tied up in a first-floor closet… Yes, sir, Director Sax came with me. I needed FBI involvement, and he was the only person I knew for sure was clean… Well, it would be a little difficult to have him speak with you, sir. Reed killed him."

Casey held the phone away from his ear as his immediate superior unleashed a venomous, expletive-laden tirade, the general theme of which was that Casey's career would not be enhanced by his decision to undertake a solo, off-grid mission that resulted in the death of the top law enforcement officer in the country.

"Understood, sir," he said when the rant finally ended. "I'll wait here for the cleanup crew." He flipped the phone shut and turned to his former partner. "Backup's on its way, Walker."

Sarah nodded. "Guess that means I should take off."

"I'd recommend it," Casey replied. "You know how hard they'll be coming after you this time."

"And you know how much I love a challenge. I'll be fine," she answered. "I'm just sorry we had to put Sax's death on your record."

Casey snorted. "You're worried about me? I'll end up in some nice, out-of-the-way posting where nothing remotely interesting ever happens. You're the one who's intentionally implicating herself in conspiracies to murder two of the highest-ranking intelligence officials in the country."

"Yeah, well, we can't let the Ring know we're looking in the right direction, can we? Chuck and I will have a much easier time going after them if they have no idea we're coming."

"Doesn't make it any easier for me to tell everyone you're a traitor," Casey protested.

"It doesn't matter what people think. What matters is what needs to be done," Sarah said quietly.

The former partners lapsed into contemplative silence until Casey's phone buzzed. He answered it, listened briefly, grunted, and hung up. "They're 15 minutes out."

"Which means it's time to go."

"Take care of yourself, Walker. And keep him out of trouble."

"Since when have I been able to do that?" She smiled and extended a hand. "It was good working with you again, John."

"You too."

"Out of everything I gave up when I left, it's probably what I miss the most."

As he watched Sarah disappear into the woods behind the building, Casey found himself breaking his longstanding vow never to blush.


	12. Revelation

A/N: Well, we've reached the final chapter of Sarah vs. the FBI. I believe this is the part where I thank all my loyal readers and reviewers. You guys are the best!

If you enjoyed this story and want to know the real story behind Chuck's "death," keep an eye out for the upcoming prequel, Chuck vs. Dunder Mifflin. Yes, it's a Chuck-Office crossover. Even if you're not a fan of the Office (and if you aren't, why not?), I'd appreciate you giving the story a chance.

12 chapters and 30,000 words in, nothing has changed. I still own no part of Chuck or Veronica Mars.

* * *

Chapter 12: Revelation

It was one month to the day after General Beckman had been killed.

The two agents who were currently standing by their cars and eying each other cautiously had spent a majority of that month working together to clean up the unbelievable snafu that had developed from that assassination. Despite the unusual circumstances, they had performed their jobs with exceptional efficiency. Now, only 30 days later, there was only one task left. That task brought them to a house that they had each visited exactly one time.

"You sure this is a good idea?" the female agent asked, walking across the street toward her counterpart's Crown Victoria.

He snorted. "Not remotely."

"But we're going through with it."

"Yeah." He drew in a thoughtful breath, and his hand wandered instinctively toward his hip, patting the package as if to reassure himself of its presence. "I've learned to trust his judgment on the topic of security risks – which is something I _never_ expected to say."

She shot him a questioning glance. "Still, this doesn't seem necessary for the mission. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

He shrugged. "I can handle this on my own if you'd rather stay out of it."

"I'm here, aren't I?" she challenged him harshly.

"Just saying," he replied with uncharacteristic gentleness. "You don't have to be."

She paused momentarily, then shook her head decisively. "I should be. He's earned that much."

They walked to the door of the house and knocked.

* * *

Dr. Ellen Woodbridge was exhausted. This was understandable, considering her recently finished double shift in the ER. She was very much looking forward to settling down for several hours of peaceful, dreamless sleep.

That's why the persistent knock on the door was so irritating. She stormed down the stairs and into the house's entryway, flinging the door open to reveal two visitors. Either one of them would have been startling individually. Their presence together left Ellie utterly befuddled.

"John? And Agent…"

"Mars," the small blonde helpfully supplied.

Ellie nodded dazedly. "What, uhh, what are you both doing here?"

Casey stepped forward, reaching into his jacket pocket with his left hand. "We came to give you this," he replied, offering the elder Bartowski sibling a cheap CD case. "You're supposed to watch it in private. We'll be here when you're done in case you have any questions."

Still confused, Ellie waved the government agents into her living room, then retreated to the den and slid the disc into her laptop. It contained only one file, which ran automatically. On the screen appeared the face of Sarah Walker.

"Hi, Ellie," the face said cautiously. "I'm sure this is a surprise."

She was right.

"I need you to stay calm, all right? There are some things you should know."

"Like maybe what happened to my baby brother? Or why I haven't seen you in over a year, and even after that much time you still don't have the guts to face me in person?" Ellie wasn't sure why she'd decided to vent at the unresponsive face on her monitor, but it was satisfyingly cathartic.

"But before we get to that, I need to make sure that you're really Ellie. So I'm going to ask a security question. Before Chuck and I had our first date, Chuck joked with you about how he met me. What did he say?"

Ellie was utterly flummoxed. She tried to think back over three years. It was two days after Chuck's birthday… he came home from work and announced that he had a date…

_"So, Sarah… she's nice? Pretty?"_

_"Yeah. Actually, Morgan met her in this sort of online chat room."_

She wasn't sure how Sarah had heard that story, but at least she remembered the answer.

"Type the answer in," the blonde instructed. "Don't worry about the exact form, just get the general idea."

_Morgan met you online,_ Ellie tried.

Sarah's head nodded. "Good. Now that we've confirmed who you are, let me just zoom out a little here so someone else can join me…"

October 24 had been an exceptionally surprising day for Ellie. So when Sarah said that someone else would be appearing on the screen, she'd steeled herself to expect absolutely anything.

The appearance of her little brother's face still left her in a breathless state of shock.

"Hey, Ell."

She stared, completely stupefied. She was extremely grateful that the faces on her computer couldn't see her – she probably looked about like a fish lying on the deck of a boat, fruitlessly gasping for air.

"So, umm, I'm not dead."

Ellie could see that.

"Or at least, I wasn't when we made this recording… I guess you never know in this business."

That was comforting.

"See, the thing is… a little over year ago, Sarah and I ran into some trouble with our employers, and we kind of needed to disappear. And while Sarah is roughly the best spy in the world, for some reason, these people still think I'm more important."

Sarah interrupted. "Because you are."

"Agree to disagree," Chuck replied with a cheeky grin. "Anyway, the opportunity presented itself, so… we killed me. Not really, obviously. But we faked my death. See, if I was dead, the government wouldn't chase Sarah nearly as vigorously."

That made as much sense as anything Ellie had heard since getting home. Which meant slightly less than nothing.

"They stopped looking after a while, although they'll probably pick it up again soon – at least, I would if I were them. So we still have to hide out until that blows over. Plus, there's another project we're working on." The couple appeared to squabble briefly, with Chuck muttering an indistinct "I wasn't going to tell her any more."

Sarah picked things up from that point. "The thing is… for all of this to blow over, Chuck needs to stay dead. We'll be off the grid for a long time. Until he's able to come out, you cannot tell _anyone_ about this. Nobody. Understand?"

Ellie nodded.

Chuck talked again. "Ellie, I promise, we will come back someday. Until then, Veronica and Casey will keep an eye on you for us – two eyes, as often as they can spare them." Ellie joined Sarah in a fond eye roll at the reference. "And we'll be watching out for you ourselves, albeit from a distance. You'll be about as safe as anyone who doesn't have a personal Secret Service detail."

Chuck and Sarah spoke together. "We love you, Ellie. We miss you. We'll see you again."

The picture on the screen faded, leaving Chuck's voice coming through the speakers. "This disc will self destruct in 10 seconds. No, seriously. Consider it Dad saying hello."

As the acrid white smoke that emerged from the CD tray of her laptop wafted throughout the room, Ellie managed a weak laugh in between her tears.

* * *

Casey and Veronica sat patiently in the living room, waiting for the doctor to reemerge.

"You think she's all right?" the FBI agent finally asked after half an hour had gone by.

"She's a tough kid," Casey replied. "She'll be fine."

"I'm not sure," Veronica argued. "I mean, it was pretty startling for me when I found out the guy was alive, and I only knew him from that picture." She gestured toward the mantel. "She knew him his whole life."

"She's a doctor. She's used to dealing with death."

Veronica snorted in disdain. "Sure. Seeing people you barely know die as part of your professional life is the ideal way to prepare for a suddenly undead family member." She stood from the couch. "I'm going to check on her."

The discussion was interrupted by the sound of the door to the den creaking open. Veronica could immediately see that Ellie had been crying. She walked quickly over to the other woman, wrapped a comforting arm around her, and led her toward the love seat in the living room.

"So I'm supposed to ask you guys questions now, right?" Ellie murmured.

"Yeah. Whenever you're ready," Veronica replied.

The doctor appeared to start talking twice, only to stop before making any actual noise. Finally, she managed to force out, "He's really alive?"

"Really," both agents answered.

"And he faked his death? How did that work?"

Casey grunted. "Short version? Walker tricked me."

Ellie caught the residual irritation in the NSA agent's voice, and wisely decided not to ask for the long version. "I guess you can't tell me what he's doing now."

Veronica shook her head apologetically. "Nope. Even we only know in the vaguest terms."

"How long will it take?"

"We don't-"

Ellie cut them off sharply. "I know you don't have an exact date. Weeks, months, or years?"

The agents traded glances. "Years," Casey finally answered.

"How dangerous is it? I mean, I realize that your jobs are dangerous all the time…"

"It's riskier than our jobs," Veronica replied. "But if anyone can handle it, it's Chuck and Sarah."

The doctor nodded quietly. "I won't say that's exactly reassuring. Probably because I'm always going to see him as my baby brother. But if you say they can do it… I think I believe you."

"They can do it," Casey said with conviction.

The three occupants of the living room lapsed into silence for several minutes as the agents allowed Ellie to process what she'd learned. Eventually, she turned to face Veronica. "You were here a couple weeks ago never having met Chuck. How do you know so much about him all of a sudden?"

The FBI agent hesitated before answering. "We, uh, worked together on a case."

"The one you were here for?" Ellie queried.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me about it?" the brunette pressed.

Veronica looked at Casey, who shrugged slightly. "A little, I guess. It was the assassination of General Beckman, who was Casey's boss and the supervisor of Chuck's operation."

"Did you solve it?"

"We did," Veronica said proudly.

"Who did it?"

"Don't you watch the news?" the blonde asked with a slightly teasing lilt to her voice.

"The news said that the Director of the CIA conspired with a rogue agent to plan the murder," Ellie replied calmly. "Since Sarah is a rogue agent, and the message said that they're expecting her to get more attention now, I'm guessing she's who they were referring to. And since Chuck helped you solve the case, I'm also guessing that story may not be entirely accurate."

Casey chuckled. "Your whole family is too smart for its own damn good."

"The official account may have one or two slight discrepancies with what really happened," Veronica confessed.

"Can you tell me what those are?"

"They're connected with what Chuck and Sarah are working on."

"So no," Casey accentuated.

"Can you at least reassure me that Sarah didn't actually kill a high-ranking government official?"

"Sarah didn't kill Beckman," Casey responded. "I have no idea who she's whacked in the rest of her career." Veronica shot him a dirty look.

Ellie changed topics. "Chuck said I can't tell anyone."

Both agents nodded.

"Does that include Devon?"

Casey thought that over. "That's really your call. If you think he can be trusted, and you'd like him to know, we can't stop you."

Ellie took a long pause. "They said you two would look out for me."

Veronica nodded. "There's been a bit of a shakeup in the FBI recently, thanks to the demise of Director Sax. Because I ended up doing a giant chunk of the work on the Beckman case, and because my old boss in LA is the new Director and he likes me, I've got my pick of assignments. You're looking at the new second-in-command at the FBI's Seattle field office. And I've requested Casey as the NSA liaison to the Bureau for the Pacific Northwest."

"It's an unusual assignment for someone of my rank," Casey continued, "but my bosses aren't especially fond of me at this point, and frankly, the feeling is mutual. So the official explanation is that I'm happy to accept a relatively boring desk job."

"What's the unofficial one?" Ellie asked perceptively.

"I'm sworn to defend the United States of America," he responded quietly. "And at this point, I can do a much better job of that by helping Bartowski than I can by working for the NSA." Both women looked up at him in surprise, and he chuckled darkly. "And my superiors thought I was burned out _before_ that assignment."

Ellie smiled. "Thank you both. You have no idea how much this means to me."

After receiving warm Bartowski hugs, both agents stepped outside. As soon as the door closed, they each removed tiny electronic devices from their ears, dropped them onto the porch, and crushed them. Casey held out his hand.

"Mars."

"Casey," Veronica replied with a subdued grin as she accepted the handshake. "See you at work on Monday." She walked over to her FBI-issue SUV, slid into the driver's seat, and kissed her passenger on the cheek.

"How'd it go?" Logan asked.

"Fine," she replied. "Sorry we made you wait out here."

"Oh, no problem," Logan reassured her. "I'm sure it was a lot of information for her to take in even without having someone you've never met there."

"I'm sure you'll meet her sometime soon. She's a good kid."

"You realize she's like 10 years older than you, right?" Logan grinned.

Veronica giggled softly. "Spending too much time around Casey. But still."

"It must run in the family," Logan mused.

"Yeah. I guess it's not too surprising; she practically raised him."

They settled into a comfortable silence as Veronica backed out of the driveway. Logan finally spoke again once they'd merged onto I-5.

"You sure about this?"

"Our 'epic romance,' you mean?" she asked mockingly.

Logan smiled. "Honestly, I'm not quite sure we qualify as epic any more. I mean, our relationship has been pretty crazy, but…"

"Yeah," Veronica answered. "I think we've seen what a real legendary couple looks like, haven't we?"

"They'd be pretty tough to compete with," he confirmed. "If it's all right with you, I'd be perfectly content to settle for something a little more mundane at this point."

"Much as I'd like that, I'm not sure we'll ever quite manage to be boring," she replied.

Logan's smile faded after a lengthy pause. "You still haven't answered my question."

Veronica looked at him contemplatively. "Yeah." Logan fixed her with an inquisitive stare, waiting for her to elaborate. She obliged. "Yeah, I'm sure. You know, you used to scare me a little with your intensity. But seeing Chuck and Sarah… they're both just as crazy protective as you are. And it works for them."

"It doesn't just work for them," Logan countered. "They're absolutely incredible together."

Veronica nodded. "So, I figure, maybe we can have the same kind of dynamic. Just in case we have any more epic moments." She slid her hand into his and they both smiled at the road.

* * *

"Was it really necessary for them to destroy the cameras?"

Chuck nodded. "You know the drill. If they keep them, there's a good chance the government will get them at some point; if the government gets them, then the Ring gets them. We'll need every advantage we can get."

Sarah conceded with a nod of her own. "And you're sure you're ready for this?"

"If I'm not mistaken, it was my idea."

"Chuck, it's one thing to be ready when it's some theoretical mission that we don't really know how to start. It's another matter entirely when we're really ready to get down to business."

Chuck responded with a baleful look. "I was thinking we'd start with the Colorado Springs operation, since it's closest to our current base. From what I can tell, their main vulnerability should be…"

"Chuck," Sarah interrupted. "Hang on."

"Sarah, I'm ready, okay? No issues here. We're taking them down."

She smiled and leaned casually across the table. "I got that, believe me. I was just thinking we could postpone the planning session until tomorrow."

Chuck sighed. "If you insist. But only because I love you." He leaped from his chair and sprinted toward the bedroom with Sarah hot on his heels.


End file.
